II Corinthians
by CMW2
Summary: MULTICHAPTER SEQUEL TO GENESIS;This is a collab with ByThePen90/ivebraved100storms. I couldn't have done this without her!;Now that our POTUS and Fixer are back together and out to the public, they've got to stay together by any means necessary and in this story, they will;SPOILERS FOR SEASONS 1-6 within;Rated for language, imagery, and lovemaking;15th in my 2015 SSS Project
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hello and welcome, everyone! HandsUpPunk08/ivebraved100storms and I are back with a follow up to** _ **Genesis**_ **. We were trying to do one big post like last time but we've got too many ideas to make it happen before the End of Time so this one's going to be a mostly written multichapter. How many chapters we'll end up with is unknown. HandsUp says that we've written 29 pages of Word so far and we're nowhere near close to done yet so…and…yeah. That's cool. We need more Olitz EpFics, anyways.**

 **Like** _ **Genesis**_ **, there will be some sex in this, some damned good sex but going off of 5x01's excellent end balcony scene, this story mostly has our heroes talking, really talking like they should've done ages ago. If they're going to make it happen cap'n, they've got to talk and mean it. It's angsty but not without good reason and hope. There's always hope with Olitz, at least with HandsUp and I. What The Creator decides to do with them on the show itself is up in the air (as per fuckin'** _ **usual**_ **…I'm not bitter,** _ **you're**_ **bitter!) but with us, a HEA is 100% guaranteed or at least there will be groundwork for one.**

 **Same as last time: A bolded letter at the beginning of a passage indicates a switch in writers. HandsUp has gone into Fitz's head and I've got Liv's POV. Sit back, grab some wine and popcorn, and enjoy the ride!**

 **Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!" ("ours"!)**

 ** _In which Paul answers his accusers._**

 ** _Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception…On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to everyone's conscience in the sight of God…_**

" **M** r. President, just for clarification, you have engaged in an affair with Olivia Pope since your first election campaign?"

"Yes, that's correct," Fitz stated simply. There was nothing else to add. It was the truth. And that was the entire point. Coming clean. Being honest about the man that he was. Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III, who was not only the President of the United States, but the man who was desperately in love with Olivia Pope. He would _**never**_ be apologetic for that. For falling in love with the most captivating woman he had ever met. From first glance, she had awakened things in him that had been laying in wait for decades, waiting to be shaken to life. Things that made him more whole than he had ever hoped he could be. No. He would never be sorry for that.

Never.

"Did you have sex in the White House?"

 ** _Therefore, since we have such a hope, we are very bold…_** _  
_  
"It wasn't something that we made a habit of, out of respect for the First Lady, but yes, we did."

Why should he lie? If he did, the truth would come out anyway and it would hurt them more. Surely, there was some type of record proving their guilt in that act specifically, despite their efforts in the past to be discreet. The thought of their joining in the Oval on the Inauguration night of his first term flashed to his mind. Fitz had to fight hard against the urge to lick his lips at the memory. 'Mr. President,' she had called him. For the first time. And the timbre of her voice when she said it had driven him wild. It still did. She still did.

If she was watching, and he knew she was, she would see his face and know exactly what he was thinking.

He loved that about her.

"Are you going to try to get custody of Teddy?"

 ** _As a fair exchange—I speak as to my children—open wide your hearts also…_**

"I would like to see my son as much as possible, and having primary custody would be ideal. Either way, I have no intentions of keeping him away from his mother. I want this to be as amicable as possible."

Despite the political nature of his creation, Fitz loved his son immeasurably. In some of his darkest times, Teddy had been the glue that held him together. The sun in the storm. The baby smile that warmed his aching heart. Mellie didn't hate their children, but she had never had particularly strong motherly instincts. It wasn't in her nature. Mellie was a political animal. She was no June Cleaver. He would never deny her parental rights if she wanted them, but Teddy belonged with him. There was so much in life that he wanted to experience with his son. He would fight for that.

"Are you going to marry Olivia?"

 ** _We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed…_**

"I have every intention of marrying her, yes. If she will have me."

He allowed himself a soft, knowing smile at the memory of her throwing his wedding ring across the residence the night before. The way she had claimed him for herself. He was quite certain she would have him, and that would make him the happiest man in the world. Even if it meant throwing away his career. They'd hole up in Vermont and live the rest of their days happily. They might be dodging insults and wiping the dirt from their names the whole time, but they would be doing it together. They would judge them. The public. The Right would whisper about the biracial aspect of their relationship behind closed doors and harp on his infidelity until they were blue in the face. They would feel the pressure. But if it meant them finally being together, after so damned long, he would handle it. They would handle it.

 **Together.**

"Who else knew about the affair? Did you ask anyone to lie for you?"

 ** _I beg you that when I come I may not have to be as bold as I expect to be toward some people who think that we live by the standards of this world. For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does…_**

"A handful of people in my administration knew, I won't point fingers and expose them, but I never asked anyone to lie for me. If any lies were made on my behalf it was on their own accord for their own reasons."

There was coming clean and there was throwing people under the proverbial bus. He would not point fingers and pull others into the light, as some surely expected him to. He had been playing unfairly for too long. Covering up and strategizing his personal life. That moment was about him coming forward about what he had done, not about ratting out others for what they had done. Fitz was standing there to own up to his own actions, not to uncover the mistakes of others. Because Olivia was no mistake. She was so much more than that to him.

"Why are you coming clean now?"

 ** _For we cannot do anything against the truth, but only for the truth…_**

"I'm tired of putting on a brave face and hiding the man that I am from not only the public, but from myself and Olivia as well. Olivia deserves to be loved openly, without restraint or fear of repercussions or consequences. I'm giving that to her, and in turn, to myself, whether my image remains unscathed or not. There are things in this world that are worth risking everything. This is one of those things."

It was time to come clean. What better time than now? The years of waiting and watching. Sneaking around at all hours of the night. The hushed phone calls. The wanting. God, the wanting. The endless longing for each other that had been wearing them down for so long. He was exhausted of it, and he knew Olivia was too. They weren't getting any younger. If they wanted to spend their lives together, what was left of them, they had to act on it.

That's exactly what he was doing.

"Did you give Olivia favors that breech personal and professional limits?"

 ** _Rather, as servants we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger; in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; and in sincere love; in truthful speech and in the power; with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left; through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report; genuine, yet regarded as impostors; known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything. We have spoken freely to you, and opened wide our hearts to you. We are not withholding our affection from you, but you are withholding yours from us…_**

"I think this is all about perception, which makes me unable to answer objectively. There have been strings pulled in the past, but I feel that they were more on a professional level than a personal one."

Everything they had been through together flashed before his eyes, the good and the bad, and it made him feel weak. His hands gripped the side of the podium firmer. Her abduction had nearly killed him, but he didn't need to reiterate to the American people that he had gone to war for Olivia Pope. It wasn't his proudest moment, but he wouldn't take it back either. Had it been personal? Yes. But he was going to let that one rest for the moment. It hurt to much to think about, still. They hadn't made the best decisions along the way, and they both knew that. Objectivity was often cast aside. It made them think with their hearts, feelings battling with rational thought and winning. Hand over fist. Life had tried so hard to beat them down and kill their love. The incident with Amanda Tanner. He had slipped and it had made Olivia doubt him. All of the games Cyrus had played, forcing them against one another. Defiance, which had made him doubt her. Ballard, who had fought hard to drive a wedge between them. Rowan, that power hungry sonofabitch. Re-election...

They had been so close to making it happen then. But Olivia had convinced him that his presidency, his legacy, was more important. She had been wrong. Fitz wished that he could forgive himself for letting her talk him into running for a second term instead of giving it all up for her. It was why he was pushing forward this time. They had denied themselves for too long, pressing the needs of others before their own.

Their love could not be smothered.

It was their time now.

"Is she going to be the new First Lady?"

 ** _In all our troubles my joy knows no bound_ s…**

"We have several decisions to make together before I will be able to appropriately answer this question. However, I would love nothing more than to finish out my term, God willing, with her by my side."

That was the dream, really. Running the country, being the most powerful man in the free world with her by his side. She would undoubtedly be twice the First Lady that Mellie had been. Her charisma was record setting, and with the right twist, with tweaks and careful planning in the optics, they could make it happen. Olivia could fix anything, but she had let him step on the podium and practically shout out that he was in love with her. Sure, he was more than willing to hand over his presidency in favor of being her husband. But the idea of her being the First Lady made his heart soar. He would be happy either way. Joy would fill him to the brim. They would conquer the world, whether that meant managing the country together, yes together, or managing their household in Vermont. Nothing was impossible anymore. Sorrow would no longer make him buckle when he said goodbye to her. There were no more real goodbyes. He would never again go months on end without so much as seeing her face. Those days were gone.

They could only go up from here.

 _ **/**_

" _ **M**_ _r. President, just for clarification, you have engaged in an affair with Olivia Pope since your first election campaign?"_

 _"Yes, that's correct."_

 _"Did you have sex in the White House?"_

 _"It wasn't something that we made a habit of, out of respect for the First Lady, but yes, we did."_

 _"Are you going to try to get custody of Teddy?"_

 _"I would like to see my son as much as possible, and having primary custody would be ideal. Either way, I have no intentions of keeping him away from his mother. I want this to be as amicable as possible..."_

The side door to the Oval banged open and slammed shut. Olivia took in the sight of a wide eyed Abby Whelan impassively and made room for her on the sofa she was sitting on. There was a glass of scotch in her hand and even as the questioning continued on screen, she couldn't help but smile. It wasn't a broad smile nor was it one that showed her teeth but the smile was genuine.

"Liv, are you..."

"As soon as I saw him, I knew."

"What?"

"As soon as I saw him, as soon as I heard his voice in Iowa, I knew that I would end up falling for him. I always liked how he approached politics but what really drew me in, what has a tendency to draw me in were his eyes. Not just because they're gorgeous eyes but because they were so sad..."

They weren't sad, now. They were ablaze with a potent combination of relief and of joy. He was free. The shackles were loosened from his heart and his soul. It was like taking 10 years off, 15 even. Regret rose up in her chest again. She had been responsible for keeping him chained. He had been trapped in a dead marriage and surrounded by all sorts of leeches, all sorts of monsters who wanted to use him. She had let them do it. She had cloaked herself in cowardice and martyrdom and hurt him. She had helped hurt him so many times in so many ways...

 _"Are you going to marry Olivia?"_

 _"I have every intention of marrying her, yes. If she will have me..."_

A watery chuckle escaped her at the caveat he put on that answer. Of course, she would have him. It was never a question if Olivia wanted him. It was always ' _ **should**_ she have him?' or ' _**could**_ she have him?'. She wanted him. She needed him and goddamn it, she loved him. Olivia was irreversibly, head over heels, walk through the flames in love with Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III and she would be his wife. She would be Olivia Pope-Grant and she would stand by his side in the sun, in the rain, the snow...

 _"Who else knew about the affair? Did you ask anyone to lie for you?"_

 _"A handful of people in my administration knew, I won't point fingers and expose them, but I never asked anyone to lie for me. If any lies were made on my behalf it was on their own accord for their own reasons."_

Olivia nodded in approval at that statement. She had expected him to say that. Fitz had a spine but he was rarely malicious just to be malicious or petty just to be petty. There were exceptions to that, their encounter after Ella's christening standing out prominently, but overall, he was a kind and gentle soul. What was the internet meme? 'Beautiful Cinnamon Roll, Too Good for this World, Too Pure'...any other man in his position would be eager to spill the beans on who helped cover his relationship with her and who helped interfere. Mellie, Cyrus, Rowan, Jake... _ **herself.**_ The regret bubbled up again but she reminded herself that things were different, now. It was a new day for them, a new Era for what was already being dubbed #Olitz by social media.

 **It was Time.**

 **It was their Time.**

 **It was time for them Be.**

 **It was their Time and they would get through the storm together.**

 **Running away, walking away, pushing away...none of that was an option, anymore.**

 **Go Big or Go Home.**

Olivia's endgame was to go big _**and**_ go home with him. Vermont, the Residence, her apartment, anywhere was home as long as he was with her...

 _"Why are you coming clean now?"_

 _"I'm tired of putting on a brave face and hiding the man that I am from not only the public, but from myself and Olivia as well. Olivia deserves to be loved openly, without restraint or fear of repercussions or consequences. I'm giving that to her, and in turn, to myself, whether my image remains unscathed or not. There are things in this world that are worth risking everything. This is one of those things."_

Yes, indeed. They were worth much more than Olivia had allowed them to have in the past. He had been a factor in keeping them apart, too but not nearly as much as she did. She had muddied the waters, made things much more complicated and exhausting than they had to be. Not Fitz. He had always been straightforward with his intentions and she had played games, played him and cheated them out of time that they could never get back. She couldn't go back and get a do-over. Lord knows that if she could, she would've twice over but she could make their present, their future solid and bright.

Abby sighed heavily and slumped into the couch, looking at her solemnly. Olivia rested a consoling hand on her friend's shoulder and they continued watching the interview.  
 _  
_ _"Did you give Olivia favors that breech personal and professional limits?"_

 _"I think this is all about perception, which makes me unable to answer objectively. There have been strings pulled in the past, but I feel that they were more on a professional level than a personal one."_

That wasn't true. They had both done things for the other that could be seen as completely unethical and irresponsible. Defiance, Amanda Tanner, the Monitoring that Jake Ballard had done on his orders and Rowan's, Jeannine Locke, the War on in West Angola...they had crossed the line. They had _**erased**_ the Line but...there hadn't been a choice. There had but really, there hadn't...

 _"Is she going to be the new First Lady?"_

Would she be FLOTUS? Maybe...

 _"We have several decisions to make together before I will be able to appropriately answer this question. However, I would love nothing more than to finish out my term, God willing, with her by my side."_

Would she be _**his**_ First Lady? Most definitely. He had a ring finger that needed to be adorned with something new and she was going to be the one who did it, damn it. He was hers, she was his, and they were going to get married, whether anyone liked it or not...

Abby muted the television and Olivia looked at her head on.

"This is going to be a mess, Liv. It's going to be even bigger than when your name was Leaked because even then, there was room to make it into a rumor, into libel. Not now. He put you out there, put you both out there and there's no turning back now."

"I know."

"Aren't you scared?"

"I'm fucking terrified, Abby. But, you know what? I would rather be terrified with him than terrified without him. It's not just about sex. It's not about the chase. It's not about power. It's love. It is painful, difficult, devastating, life changing love. It's not a perfect love but it's a love that he feels for me and that I feel for him. I've felt it from the moment we met and I'm done running from it. I'm done trying to destroy it and I'm just...he's worth it to me, Abby. Just like I'm worth it to him. Can you believe he said that? He said that I was like flying. He was a fighter pilot and a damned good one so he knows and..."

"He's worth it."

"Yeah...yeah, he is."

"He better be."

"He is, Abby. He's worth _**everything.**_ "

 _ **/**_

 **F** itz let the questions halt there for the time being, despite the jumbled confusion of voices that rose in cacophony behind him as he left the podium. They wanted more. The inquiries cold go on for hours. Days, even. There would be time for that later. To him, the sound was all muffled. Hushed in the peaceful excitement that he had. Oh, how impossible that feeling was. To be at a level of peace that he had never felt before but to also be so enthusiastic about what was in store for him. For them. There were no words to describe the feeling that filled his chest. None at all. A completeness. A silence where storms of great multitude had once raged, promising destruction. He was ready to go quiet for awhile. To let the public decide how his words tasted, see how their stomachs settled.

He hoped they could swallow it.

That they could see that none of this meant that he was less than a good man.

The man that she had made of him.

She had made him who he was. The man that he had been before he had met Olivia could be unrecognizable to him. Fitz had been no more than a shell of a man, simply going through the motions of life. Living the dream and following the path that had been expected of him. But Olivia had made him want it. She had made him realize that he had a greatness in him that so few before him in politics had possessed. Despite the world of manipulation that was involved in the political world, Fitz always tried to do the right thing. He cared. He really cared, and in some ways that was a weakness, but she never saw it that way. She always saw it as his greatest strength.

Even when he didn't.

Even when he made mistakes.

He was her champion, who had lived to fight another day.

The White House staff was unusually quiet as he made his way back towards the Oval. It made him smirk. He had literally rendered them speechless. How many other rooms in the nation's capital were just as silent as the people there tried to comprehend what he had just told the world? How many more rooms held screaming, raging Right wingers who couldn't stand it? Waves. They were making waves and it was glorious. A glory that he had never felt. It made him proud. Heavenly. Light and sated. Feelings filled him that were of no comparison to even the best moments of his life before he had written the speech. The best part that it was going to stick around, that feeling. It wasn't going to slip from his grasp this time. No.

 ** _...For what was glorious has no glory now in comparison with the surpassing glory. And if what was transitory came with glory, how much greater is the glory of that which lasts!_**

It would not be smooth sailing for them, no. Waves. In order to make them you must be willing to ride them. But as long as he had her, he had it all. He could float about the tide, resisting the pull of the undercurrent that would take him below and hold him until the life had been sucked from him. She would be his anchor. Not weighing him down, no. Never that. Never again. She would hold him steady.

Even when the crashing sea threatened to envelop the both of them.

The return trip to the Oval seemed to take hours, but it was the anticipation of getting back to her than lengthened it. The thought of laying eyes on her, after the things he had just shouted to the world, made his heart thump wildly. To get a visual on her reaction. Sure, he had seen a glimpse of it when she had read over his speech earlier, but the after would be different. He had gone through with it. He still could have backed out. Called it off. Changed his mind entirely about the worthiness of her. Of them. But he hadn't. He couldn't. They were worth everything.

He took a deep breath before grasping the doorknob and letting himself into his office. His movements were slow, regulated, and seemingly relaxed. He felt her presence. He always did. It was electric, setting his every fiber on end and itching towards her. Fitz rested his back against the door, his hands settling into the pockets of his navy blue suit pants as his eyes met hers across the room.

"Hi."

 _ **/**_

" **H** e's on his way back here, isn't he?"

"Mm-hm."

"I'll make myself scarce. Let me know if you need anything, Liv. Anything at all."

"I will, Abby."

After her friend slipped out of the side door into the eerily silent corridors, Olivia turned off the television. Although the Press Conference itself was over, the news coverage was only beginning. She could almost see the waves they were making in the air, each bigger than the last, radiating and crashing onto various shores. There would be a powder keg of reactions. Some would dub her the ultimate Harlot, Babylon the Great incarnated into one woman. They would condemn her for seducing away one of their golden children and him for allowing himself to be taken in by her Jezebel, jungle fever magic ways. Others would applaud him for being honest, for being bold, and being true to his heart and soul. Not many politicians, especially the ones high up in the food chain, knew how to do that anymore. It was all about the image, all about the Optics, all about saying what they thought people wanted to hear...

Her phone was on silent but it kept lighting up, alternating between Cyrus and Mellie on the Caller ID. She picked it up and very pointedly, turned it off. Unlike when she did it on that ill advised flight to the Island, there was no hesitation and no hint of doubt in her decision. She would deal with Cyrus and Mellie when she was ready to deal with them, when she and Fitz were ready to deal with them. She would not allow them to guilt, manipulate, and threaten her into helping them regain a firm grip on their personal power. Oh, they would claim that they were worried about Fitz, scared about how this "mess" would ruin him and his Legacy for all eternity but Olivia wasn't going to let herself fall into that tiger trap again. She allowed them to use her devotion to Fitz as puppet strings, making her dance and move to their tune. They knew that neither of them could get through to him like she could so they made her their mouthpiece, their disciple, their minion, their...their _**servant**_! The sting of being called "the Help" and being accused of "falling down on the Job" would forever linger and now, that sting would make her resolve even firmer. She was only their Savior when they needed something from her. Otherwise, she was the Dirty Whore, the Mistress, the Sally Hemmings reboot that they could look down on and feel superior against, even as they languished in their own filth, attached firmly to their Host like the Leeches they had always been.

 **Never again.**

Never, ever again would she help either of them. As far as she was concerned, Mellie Grant (soon to be Vaughn) and Cyrus Beene were on a permanent No-Fly list for Clients and as friends, as acquaintances, as allies? They were dead to her. There were as dead as Verna Thornton, as James, as...as _**Harrison**_...

" _What's your endgame?",_ the O.G. (Original Gladiator) had asked her once he put the pieces together. Other people would be asking that question. Hell, they were already asking it and soon, she would have to give an answer. The answer had never been lost to her. She knew what her Endgame was. She had just assumed that she would never be able to have it. She would never be able to even touch it for more than a hot second before it was snatched away or rather, _**thrown**_ away in a flurry of cowardice and obligations.

What was her endgame?

The main door to the Oval opened and shut.

"Hi."

Her endgame was looking at her with eyes brimming over with need, tenderness, and devotion. Her endgame was leaning against the door frame, looking tired but immensely satisfied, the expression vividly reminding her of their activities the night before, activities that she was eager to resume. Her endgame had laid it on the line and Olivia would do the same for him, taking all the bad with the good and there _**was**_ good. So much good. So much freedom. Even with the waves crashing and the firestorms erupting one by one, Olivia felt truly free for the first time in...well, ever.

She felt like she was flying.

 _"...hi."_

 _ **/**_

 **S** he wasn't smiling, but he knew it wasn't because she was unhappy. Fitz was sure that there were at least a dozen emotions swirling through her brilliant, beautiful mind. Because he was feeling that way too. His heart was spilling over with feeling as he looked at her. Joy. Fear. Arousal. All of it, raging inside of him, practically causing him to quiver as it began to rise to the surface. Threatening to burst free from him, right through the skin.

Could he hold it together? Just a little longer. Until they were alone peacefully, in the privacy that Vermont would grant them. Where they could both release everything that was building up inside of them until they were free of it. Then they could finally breathe and settle in the aftermath.

Together.

The shrill ringing on the phone on his secretary's desk outside the office could be heard but he tried to push the sound out of his mind. It was full enough without having to think about all of the inquiries and lectures that were in his future. Near future, surely. Mellie and Cyrus would go absolutely nuclear over it. But that wasn't what he wanted to deal with. Not yet. He knew that he would have to face it, and he would.

After he spent the weekend in Vermont showing the love of his life just how much she meant to him. In case his declaration hadn't been enough. Fitz would never tire of showing her affection.

And he would never stop.

Not for anything in the world.

On his way back, he had discussed travel arrangements with the Secret Service. As soon as he was ready, as soon as they were ready, they could leave. For a few days, they could leave DC and all of the gossip and accusations behind.

They could be together and be nothing else but each other's.

Just for a moment, but it would be the beginning of forever.

He took the strides to close the distance between them and took a seat beside her. He knew if he kissed her, he wouldn't be able to stop. So he didn't. Not yet. Gently, he took the scotch tumbler from her and took a hearty sip, humming at the hot relief that scorched down his throat, heating his belly like a hearth.

"The helicopter is ready for us," he mentioned casually, as if he was simply suggesting which wine they could have with dinner. As if it wasn't something that they had been longing to do for years.

As if the day hadn't completely changed their lives.

* * *

 **O** livia never thought that she would be a part of a Presidential Departure scene. At the end of each Presidency, the sitting President would leave in Marine One to much aplomb. The first one Olivia had seen was Richard Nixon's in her 8th grade American History class. They had just covered Watergate and when Olivia read that the man had resigned, she had expected to see him leave with his head bowed and very quickly. It had been the opposite and she had chalked it up to the man standing by his decisions. Even though the World called him dirty, "a crook", he knew that he wasn't so he could be happy to be leaving. She had chalked it up to stubborn pride and a well maintained public facade before moving on with her studies.

Now, she understood why Nixon and all the others looked so happy when they left. They were relieved. Sure, they would spend the rest of their lives in a fishbowl but not one nearly as insane as they had been tossed into as POTUS. They had the whole rest of their lives ahead of them and it was a chance for a brand new start. It was a chance to be private again. It was a chance to be open. Lord knew that she had missed being able to be open...

The South Lawn was a lush bottle green, immaculately trimmed and the helipad was already in place, Marine One waiting to take them away from DC, to take them to their Vermont estate. They would be up there through the weekend to let the initial firestorm die down, to relax, and to reconnect. There were still many things to talk about, still so many cans of worms to pry open, still so many unanswered questions. They needed to sit down and hash everything out. Even if they had to drink, even if they had to yell, even if they had to cry, they would do it. She would do it. Olivia had kept so much bottled up and she knew that Fitz had his own mental and emotional contents under pressure. They needed to let it out and the privacy of their home, the trust that was still between them after everything, would allow the release to be safe.

And reconnecting and releasing also had a lot to do with their bodies. The night before had been absolutely exquisite but it wasn't enough. They had so much time to make up for and new time to spend. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to stroke him. She wanted to climb him. She just wanted to throw herself into his arms and let him do what he saw fit. No one could touch her like Fitz could. He knew just what to do to satisfy not just her body but her spirit, to settle her roiling mind into some sort of peace. Being with him, making love to him, fucking him...it brought her peace when she allowed it to.

She would allow it to. Part of not running away was letting go of control. Olivia had operated under the idea that everything could be Fixed, Handled, and Controlled but that just wasn't true. Some things just had to run their course. Sometimes, all a person could do was hold on, trust, and ride it out. Olivia couldn't save the world and she couldn't control everything. Trying to had lost her countless hours of sleep, many friends, and relationships. At the root of every failed relationship she had been in (other than questionable taste and timing with men to begin with, Fitz included in the latter...), was her inability to let go and trust that she would be caught before she hit the ground.

If she was going to put the broken pieces of herself back together, if she was going to regain a solid sense of security, if she was really going to throw herself headfirst screaming into a fully functional, healthy, happy relationship with her Fitzgerald, then she had no choice but to let go.

 **If she would let him, Fitz would catch her and he'd cherish her. She knew that in her bones.**

As soon as they stepped outside, the rotors of Marine One began to turn and she could see the Media being held at bay by Secret Service, MPD, and even a few G-Men. Instead of deterring them, more media vans were coming into view and there were spectators on all sides of the wrought iron fencing. She could hear the rapid clicking of camera shutters and see the red lights on the cameras indicating that every step she took, every step they took was being recorded for posterity. The Leader of the Free World and the Woman who he was likely going to have give everything up for were leaving together in broad daylight, just like Presidents and their First Ladies. Had he been impeached already? Would he be impeached at all? Can you believe that he _**finally**_ copped to being with Olivia Pope? It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out that there had always been something more than friendship and professionalism between them. It had been the worst and best kept secret in DC. _**It was like JFK and Marilyn Monroe all over again...**_

Squashing the instinct to quicken her pace, Olivia focused on breathing deeply and kept putting one foot in front of the other.

Another thing that the assembled humanity had to be marveling at was her appearance. Instead of the power suit and mile high heels she was infamous for, Olivia wore a plum purple scoop necked dress, her white cover up from the night before, and a pair of leopard print flats. She had left her hair down and it was tousled both from her fingers during the interview and now the breeze. She didn't have on a stitch of makeup but she still looked gorgeous and my, my, wasn't she a brave little toaster for coming out with the POTUS right now? He wasn't even divorced, yet! The Press Conference had been less than an hour ago and she was right there holding his hand as they stopped at the bottom of the fold down stairs leading to Marine One. Wait a minute...was she seriously holding his hand?

Fitz startled at the initial contact and he stopped to look between their hands and her face. Olivia knew that her facial expression was blank, serene even but every bit of what she was feeling was her in her gaze. She was still scared. She was absolutely terrified but that didn't mean that she didn't want to be where she was. It didn't mean that she wasn't relieved and happy to be out in the open with him, in more ways than one. She was scared but she was going to stay. She wanted to stay.

She would stay with him.

If she went away again, it would be because of a business meeting (if she still even had a business at the end of the day...), an outing with her remaining Gladiators and friends, or it would be because someone had Taken her again. She wouldn't just take off. She'd let him know and if possible, bring him with her.

Just like he didn't want to be without her anymore, Olivia wasn't too keen on being apart from him, either.

Rising up on her tiptoes, she pressed a tender kiss to his cheek before ascending the stairs to the helicopter, heart pounding in the back of her throat. Terror warred with exhilaration in her mind and she was unsure whether she should laugh, cry, scream...

The feel of his lips pressing forcefully against hers took the decision out of her hands and hers buried happily in his thick curls.

She wasn't sure if her stomach swooped because of Marine One lifting off or because of his kiss.

Perhaps it was both...

 _ **/**_

 **I** t sure felt like he was leaving for good. Fitz felt a sense of foreboding in the air and god if he wasn't choking on it a little. The way the press hovered. It was the same as usual but different as well. It was scrutiny like he hadn't truly felt before. It made his chest heavy. Not with regret, but with worry. Even though he felt, and had told Olivia once, that his job was difficult (let's face it, it sucked), he still loved it. He loved waking up each day with the promise of making a difference for his country. The country that he loved. The country that he had fought for when he was in the Navy. The country that he had believed in enough to get into politics and run for the biggest office. All with the promise of helping people. He still had some time left, and he wanted to spend it pushing forward and making change.

The first change was putting Olivia by his side.

He wanted to do that, all of that, with her beside him.

She was worth giving it up, sure, but if Congress did indeed accept his offer to resign, he would miss it. Sure, a much more private life with Olivia in Vermont, or wherever they ventured, would be great. No, _**amazing**_. But she knew just as much as he did that he had a heart for the presidency that few had. It was why she had pushed him and believed in him for so long. He desperately wanted to finish his legacy, but he would swallow that and let it go.

If he had to.

For her.

It was bittersweet.

They stood at the doors that faced the South Lawn, still just far enough away from the media scope, taking one minute. Just one minute. Before they surged forward and faced the first real wave of the storm. Together. He looked at her, saying all that he needed to without even opening his mouth. It might be his favorite thing about their relationship. How they could say everything without uttering a single word. It was the connection of a lifetime. One that had gripped him from that first day and refused to let him go…

 _"I would eat, breathe, and live Fitzgerald Grant every minute of every day. You would be lucky to have me. Just because you don't like hearing the truth about yourself-"_

 _"I_ _ **loved**_ _hearing what you had to say. I agree with every word, very astute…and you're right. I_ _ **would**_ _be lucky to have you…"_

Then they had stood there. Close. So goddamn close, but not close enough. Never close enough. Like an idiot, he had stood there, with his mouth open, but he found no words to say as their eyes met. No words in that moment could describe the intensity of what he felt for her. It was as if someone placed a magnet near his navel at birth and he had finally found the companion piece that had been made to fit him. That didn't repel when he got too close. That, instead, pulled him in, practically begging him to touch her. From that first minute, their first unofficial minute, he knew, he felt deep down in his gut, that she was made for him.

 _"_ _ **This**_ _is why you fired me."_

 _"Can we just…"_

 _"Go back in there and work?"_

 _"Okay."_

 _"Okay…"_

They had tried to ignore it then. Tried formidably, because they both knew what it would mean if they actually put those feelings into words. They hinted at it, toyed around with it, until that night in his hotel room. He had given her an out, just like he was going as they stood with Marine One waiting. She had been given a choice. Always. But she had chosen him. Despite the running and the fear, she always chose him at the end of the day.

He looked at the affirmation on her face, strong and steady there, even amongst the swirling of the other emotions that she was trying to stifle. She was in. She was there.  
They were really going through with it.

He gave her a soft grin and nodded, holding the door for her as they stepped outside. He hadn't seen the media crowded like that since the last time Olivia's name was joined with his in the tabloids. They had to admit, they were definitely a couple of power. They could and would move mountains together. And they would be a dynamic duo in the White House if he was able to finish out his presidency. They were shocking the world, but the world wasn't ready for what they would be together.

In the White House or outside of it.

The flashes of the cameras would have been blinding if it wasn't during the day. God, he had balls, didn't he? He couldn't keep the close-lipped grin off of his face, but he tried to keep it subtle. He'd give his left leg to see Mellie's reaction to him parading Olivia in front of the media. Something she never thought he'd actually go through with. Priceless, indeed. Though he was sure he would deal with her reactions enough later. And Cyrus. It was about them for the moment. And he could tell by the way the air felt between them, despite her attempt to conceal it from everyone else, that she was about to jump out of her skin, feeling out of her element in their new situation. Of course, she was the great Olivia Pope. She would put on a brave face and press forward, not showing the first sign of weakness. But he knew her. She was feeling everything he was feeling, and probably more. They had so much to deal with. So much to handle. So much to talk about. And it was all there bubbling just under the surface, for both of them.

Then she took his hand, and he felt the slight trembling.

He gave her a reassuring squeeze and met her gaze as they stopped on the helipad for a moment. He was right. He saw it. Right there in her eyes. The fear. He gave her a nod, acknowledging it, agreeing that he felt it too. But it would pass. It had to.  
Because there they were, bold and brave, standing together, about to board Marine One, right there in front of the whole world.

And she was kissing his cheek, in a way that was sweet and soothing, but also an underlying tease for what was to come later. A subtle way of showing off to the public that he was hers. One of many to come, he was sure.

He knew her.

He let himself smile fully then, at the feel of her warm lips on his skin. Every paper in the country would bear a snapshot from that minute and a half journey from the White House to the helipad. And his smile, the smile he knew she loved, better accompany at least a few headlines. To show America that he meant it when he said he was in love with her.

 **Because god, he was so incredibly in love with that woman.**

His steps seemingly calm, he followed her onto the helicopter, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding when Secret Service sealed the door behind them. The tinted windows saved him, because he pulled her to him once they sat on the bench seat, kissing her deeply. He held her close, anchoring her to him, as they lifted off, allowing himself a soft groan of contentment.

He felt so alive.

 _ **/**_

 **T** here was no going back, now.

They could slow things down between them but hiding them was completely impossible. They were exposed, raw, open to all of the scrutiny of the Media and the whole world. Forever, her name and his name would be intertwined. She was America's Mistress. Not to Fitz, _**never**_ to Fitz, but for every person who would speak in support of them, of her, there would a dozen detractors. None of them really understood her, understood her and Fitz. All they would see is the sex and the secrecy. Fitz's Press Conference had clarified a lot of things, nearly everything important, but they would still judge. They would still analyze. They would still try and tear them apart, especially when Mellie began to make her statements. Poor Mellie, the lily white woman humiliated by her jungle fevered husband and his bitch, she would say. Fitz was lying. She didn't know about anything about his liaison with Olivia Pope and she _**certainly**_ didn't encourage it. Surely not! She had loyally loved her husband for so long and he had betrayed her! He was so cruel, so mean, so selfish...

It was a load of steaming bullshit and Mellie knew it but she would still Spin it that way. For all of her talk of being brilliant, Mellie's greatest accomplishments were leeching off of Fitz and screwing the Vice President so good that he would speed up staging a coup just to make her his First Lady. She wasn't much of a mother and she was only a political animal when she could fully manipulate the situation like when she had lied about her miscarriage on The Trail. She would take that Spin and run with it because she wasn't creative or smart enough to do anything else. Maybe what few allies she had left could come up with something new but it was doubtful. They were all cut from the same cloth.

Fitz had left very little room for her Spin to work but it would to a point. People were ignorant. People were prejudiced. People were racist. People were all too eager to throw stones at other people's glass houses while forgetting about their own sins, their own imperfections, their own humanity. Mellie could tap into the ugliness that people hid behind a veneer of civility easily and she could make some good ground. She could tap into xenophobia and every woman who had watched **The First Wives Club** or had been rejected would feel her pain. Her pull wouldn't last in the long run but short term? She could do a lot of damage to Fitz and to herself. Olivia had to get ready. She had to be prepared. She had to be ready to fight fire with fire.

It wasn't time for the White Hat. It was time for brass knuckles and bloody blades. Her vaunted figurative White Hat was gone and she wouldn't miss it. David could have it, if he wanted it. He probably didn't. White Hats never lasted long in DC and maintaining them was far more trouble than they were worth.

Feeling Fitz's gaze on her, Olivia pulled her phone out of her sweater and turned it on. Immediately, it began to vibrate and flash frantically with notifications but she ignored them in favor of accomplishing...

 _"Liv, where are you? It's completely insane outside! We're surrounded by Media and Secret Service agents and..."_

"Quinn, I'm going to text you the combination to the safe in my office. I need the black folders on Mellie, Cyrus, Sally, and I need one made for Elizabeth North. Get Huck on it."

" _Huck's...Liv, Huck's gone. Something happened and...he's alive but he's in no shape to work right now but..."_

" _ **But?**_ "

" _Well, Jake's here. He showed up during your walk on the South Lawn and he says that he wants to help. He's no Huck with the Tech stuff but the both of us can make it work_."

"Fine. Work with him and call Abby. She's in the White House and if we're going to make it through this, we need all hands on deck. Have the folders ready by tomorrow afternoon. A Secret Service agent will grab them and if they won't show you their credentials, shoot them through the door. Not to kill, though."

" _Okay. Should I call David, too? You're already getting death threats and you might need a lawyer in case the wife tries to sue you for stealing her husband. She can do that._ "

"If anyone has a shot of winning an Alienation of Affection suit, it's Fitz but we'll wait for her to set that bridge on fire. We've done enough burning for today."

" _I'll say...I'm happy for you, Liv._ _ **Scared shitless for you**_ _but really happy for you, too. You deserve to be happy and The President really loves you."_

"Thanks, Quinn. I'll call tomorrow."

" _All right. We're on it. Be safe, Liv._ "

She ended the call and turned off the phone just as a call from Cyrus popped up on the other line, still determined not to talk to him or Mellie, yet. They would be calling only to judge her, now. As soon as she stepped onto the South Lawn with Fitz, it had become clear to even them whose side she was on.

They knew that she'd never help them undermine Fitz again so now needed someone to blame for what had befallen them. Olivia was their go-to scapegoat. She was their whipping girl, the Whore and the Help that they could control so they could control Fitz. Not anymore. She was absolutely done with them and those black folders would destroy them. She should've used them when Fitz leaked her name. She should've thrown everything she had at them, then. Maybe things would be different. Maybe she and Fitz would be happy, now instead of working towards it. Maybe she'd be holding their baby or pregnant. Maybe James would still be alive. Maybe Harrison would still be alive. Maybe Gerry...she had missed a lot of opportunities, thrown them away in the name of the White Hat and her own cowardice but not anymore. While she certainly wouldn't turn into Rowan, she was going to get rid of a lot of her scruples, what few that she had left, to get the life she deserved, the life they both deserved!

She rested her head on the window and sighed softly, already feeling exhausted from the situation and it had just begun.

"It's a sad reflection of humanity when adultery is seen as a bigger sin than murder or marching orders to murder, isn't it?"

"...yeah."

"I'm going to have to close OPA for good. No one is going to want to work with me after this, no matter how good I am at what I do. It's for the best, I suppose. How the hell am I supposed to Fix other people's problems when I can't even Fix my own?"

"I'm sorry, Livvie. I know how much your work means to you."

"All too well...don't worry about me blaming you for it. I'm not Mellie. I know how to take responsibility for my decisions."

"Thank God."

A bark of laughter escaped her at his matter of fact statement and she felt the seat shift as he came up behind her. Both of his arms went around her and she bowed her head, giving his lips access to press comforting kisses to the nape of her neck.

 _ **/**_

 **I** t was the beginning of a new journey for them. Pressing forward, against the tide that raged against their borders, threatening to break the levy and drown them for their sins.

But it was too late.

They were already drowning in each other, in the happiness that they brought each other. In the assured contentment that their lives together would bring them.

Nothing could stop them now. They wouldn't let it.

The world was going to rage at them like never before. To Fitz, she was everything. His sun, the love of his life, his Livvie. But to the world, she was a homewrecker who had broken the beloved marriage of the President and his First Lady. If only they knew how broken he and Mellie had been before Olivia had even stepped foot into their lives. Their marriage had been a goner long before he had laid eyes, or hands, on her. All of the fake smiles and nauseating affection that Fitz had put on for the press. All of the hostility towards his wife that he had been forced to choke down. He was done with that. It was going to be over. He was ready to trod the path of life with Olivia, and he wanted the public to see the joy she brought him.

He wanted them to see how in love they were so that they could love her too.

And he was confident that they would, in time. Olivia Pope might be easy for some to hate, because of her head-strong nature and drive to do the right thing as often as possible, but Fitz knew personally that she was even easier to love. Despite everything, nothing came easier to Fitz than loving her. She exuberated such passion, in everything that she did. Her beauty halted his breath, all the time. She constantly stunned him by simply existing. Just like she did as she turned on her 'Fixer' mode while she was on the phone with Quinn. Fitz watched her, in awe, as she meticulously gave orders and, he was sure, worked out a plan in her head.

But this time, it was so much different than it had been between them before. Yes, she was fixing. It was what she did. Her job. Her livelihood. But she wasn't trying to fix them. She wasn't trying to blanket their love, to hide or stifle it in hopes of saving his image. They were on a much different path this time around. They were being honest about so many things, and in defense they were willing to drag the honesties of their enemies out into the light if they had to. Mellie. Cyrus. Sally. Elizabeth. Some of the darkest and dirtiest secrets were hidden in those folders, which would give them the ammunition to use if they needed it. When they needed it. They had so much stacked against them. So many people who were going to try to tear them apart like their love was nothing. Like they were a simple little extramarital fling that would fade into the night. But what they had was so much more and they knew it. It was something that they would fight tooth and nail for. They were tired of the games when it was so simple for them.

They wanted to be together. They were ** _going_** to be together. And they would tear down anyone who tried to ruin that for them.

Fitz watched her phone light up, Cyrus' photo popping up for a second before she  
promptly turned it off.

The storm raged, but they were still pushing it to the side, letting it swell and brew quietly until they were fully ready to face it.

They had things to discuss and handle between them before they could begin to face  
their outside battles.

Fitz would practically see the thought swirling in her head. Her beautiful and brilliant mind. It was a full plate they were dealing with, and he knew he was going to take its toll on her, if it hadn't already started doing so. They would bear the burden together. He would be damned if he would watch her sink beneath the weight alone. There was no more alone.

It was together from there on out. Always. Forever. In everything. It was all he wanted.

He took her dark-screened phone from her hand and placed it on the side table. Far from her. As far as he could reach. Out of sight and out of mind. His hand took hers and he laced their fingers, bringing her skin to his mouth where he kissed it reassuringly. She was right. They lived in a sad, petty world where people were more interested and concerned about what he was going with his dick than what he was doing with the country. To many, the progress and change that he had made, and hopefully would continue to make, in office wouldn't matter because he had openly embraced his 'mistress.' The thought made him shake his head in utter annoyance.

The look on her face when she told him that she needed to give up working made his heart sink a fraction. She didn't deserve that and he hated himself for it. For him, she was giving up her business. She seemed willing, but it was something she was good at. Great at. It was her talent, and he wasn't worthy of giving that up for. She said she wasn't placing blame on him, but she didn't have to. Fitz was blaming himself enough already. It wasn't fair to her.

He _**hated**_ that.

His arms encircled her and he held her close to him, the heat of his body warm against hers. He tried to keep his kisses chaste, but found it difficult. She drove him damned near crazy, and the heaviness of the conversation, the situation, made him want to distract her. Yet, they couldn't keep diving into sex to try to make their issues disappear. They weren't playing the short game anymore and they needed to act like it.

Still…

He let his lips linger, moving them upward to her ear, where he nibbled on her earlobe.

"Responsible or not, don't give up yet. Let's see how thing play out. It could just be temporary."

Maybe once things settled she could reconvene her gladiators and start working again. Only time would tell. For her sake, he hoped so. Olivia felt most in her element when she was fixing. When she was wearing the White Hat and doing her part to help someone. But it was their time now. They were helping themselves.

"Regardless, you won't be unemployed. I hear the President is looking for a new First Lady. You should send him your resume…" he suggested cheekily, his breath fogging hot against her neck.

 _ **/**_

 **T** he kisses to the nape of her neck inevitably became kisses to her lips and Olivia was now on his lap, 45 minutes into their 90 minute flight to their home in Vermont. His left hand stroked the small of her back up to the band of her lavender bra and his right hand caressed her thigh underneath her dress, revealing part of her matching panties. The red tie she had picked for him was undone and his white dress shirt was unbuttoned to the hollow of his throat. She moaned as he shifted so she was on her back and her flats hit the floor as her toes curled tightly. Shuddering, she held him by his hair as he suckled at her neck again, deepening the covered marks and creating new ones. His arousal strained against his suit pants and pulsed against her flat abdomen. She wanted to touch him there. She wanted to unzip him, free him to her eager fingers, her sopping core, but she had to make something clear. She had to make sure that he understood...

She tapped him behind the ears and he raised his head questioningly.

"I don't blame you for whatever fallout I'm going to get and I don't want you blaming yourself, either."

Her hands braced on his chest and he rose up on his forearms, looking at her with a carefully blank face. She knew that face. Fitz was trying to avoid whatever he was feeling and it was painfully obvious when he did. He was a very expressive man, practically a live wire when it came to his emotions, positive or negative. It was one of the things that made him irresistible yet terrifying to her. He was capable of hiding his motives, hiding his feelings but he didn't see the need to unless he was being Presidential and even then, he was still...she wasn't used to people like him. She always looked for a hidden motive, for the lie, and that tainted a lot of her interactions with him.

"Liv, I..."

" **No.** "

"But..."

" _ **No.**_ Don't take on guilt that doesn't belong to you. It's not your fault."

"Olivia..."

"People have blamed you for a lot of things that they shouldn't have. _**I**_ blamed you for a lot of things that I shouldn't have. It was easier to do that and utterly unfair. I made you out to be the one who took advantage of me and that was wrong. I was wrong to do that and I'm sorry. You've never taken advantage of me, even at our worst times. I made the choices to be with you and to leave you. You've always left the final say to me and I appreciate that. I...I'll try not to use that final say to hurt you like before but I may slip a few times. Whatever hell that has broken loose or is about to is not your fault or my fault. Clear?"

 _ **/**_

 **F** itz wondered if they would ever get it out of their systems. The breathtaking desire for each other that they couldn't seem to tame. Granted, they had gone months between intimate encounters and survived, but there were times when he felt like he couldn't breathe if he wasn't touching her. As if each breath he took caught painfully in his throat, the weight of it pressing down heavily on his chest. The need almost more than he could stand. She sustained him, in every way. There were parts of him that seemed to live only on the taste and feel of her.

Those parts of him had been starved during her absence from his life. And after having her the night before, he knew he had to have more. It wasn't enough. It was never enough.

His tongue dipped between her parted lips to tangle with hers in sensuous strokes. The sounds he drew from her fueled him, and when she moved to straddle him, he rumbled deeply in approval. Simply her weight on him had his cock throbbing. Damn, he had it bad.

Their kisses intensified, and his need to touch her, skin to skin, peaked. He shoved her dress up a fraction, smoothing his palm from the inside of her knee, over her thigh to grip her hip. The fabric of her dress gathered at his touch, exposing her lower half to him. His other hand spanned her back, loving the definition of the muscles there. All of that swimming, he was sure. Her nimble hands untied his tie and started working on his shirt, but swiftly, he flipped her onto the generous length of the bench seat. His eager mouth dipped to her neck again, biting and sucking the skin there with fervor. Her hands were in his hair, tugging and pulling at his locks softly, and that might be his favorite thing. When she had no words, but showed him with her touch what he was doing to her. How he was making her feel. With a growl, he bucked against her hips, just once, but firmly.

He needed more.

But he felt her fingers tapping, bringing him back to her from his haze of arousal.

Fitz quirked a brow at her, unsure of why she was stopping him when she was so obviously on board physically. But he realized she wasn't through talking. Olivia Pope couldn't be all in sexually if there were still words in her mouth. It was hard to moan around those thoughts.

And just like that, she knew. He hadn't even said a word and she knew what he was thinking. But it was how he felt. What would they do if down the road, once their lives had truly began together in Vermont, she started to resent him for her decision to give up OPA? She could say the same about him if Congress accepted his offer to resign, but to him that felt different. To him, all the power, all the influence of thr presidency meant nothing if he couldn't have her. A life without her wasn't worth living, and that was why he was so willing to let it go to be with her. She could thrive in her career without him, he was sure.

She was the strong one, in his opinion.

Fitz furrowed his brow and tried, hard, to put on his game face. To wash out the exposure of what he was feeling. But he had tells, and she knew them. All of them. She read him like a goddamned book, which was both annoying and heartfelt to him. He lost the battle and his frown ran deep across his mouth, the ego stroke from her body on his fading fast and everything else flooding in. God, they really had shit to work through.

He tried to elaborate, to explain his stance and how he was feeling about it, but she kept interrupting him. Sighing softly in frustration, he shifted his body and moved off of her, sitting beside her and draping her legs across his lap. He was hot. His skin was surely flushed, for more than one reason. The guilt and shame came through his skin, heating it red and stinking up the room. It was the beginning of everything they felt coming out in the open, something that would take time and patience to work through. He listened, but his jaw clenched as the guilt she was saying he shouldn't feel rose up and filled him anyway. He waited a beat to make sure she was finished before he spoke.

"You're making it seem like I'm innocent in all this and you know I'm not. _**I'm**_ the one who cheated, Livvie. _**I'm**_ the one who kept pulling you back, regardless of how much you pushed me away. You've blamed me for things that I've done, whether you knew the reasons or not. We've both wronged each other, but that's over. We're both owed this life together. But don't try to tell me that I'm not to blame. You're about to be put through the ringer, and yes, that's my fault. If you give up OPA before you're ready, it will be because of me, and one day, you'll resent that. You'll resent that you gave up your career and talent for me."

He wanted to look away, but knew she wouldn't allow it. They preferred the opportunity to read the other's face when they communicated, especially in moments like that. Where their expressions might say even more than their words had, despite their newfound openness with each other.

He couldn't hide from her anymore. He was tired of hiding.

 _ **/**_

" **W** e're a two way street, Fitz. Yes, you cheated but like I said, you've always left the final say to me. You always give me an out. Our first night together, you told me to go in my room and I didn't. You told me that you were letting me go in the restaurant but I didn't want you to. Every time you reached out for me, I was reaching back so my resenting you? That's not going to happen. I'm not Mellie, Fitzgerald. I'm not going to push away my part in us just because it's easy...well, at least not anymore. Not on purpose. We're going to split the blame that we've earned 50/50."

Olivia watched as his face softened slowly with each word that she spoke and she felt the regret bubble up again. He had been hurt so badly by so many people. So many people, including herself, had projected their own insecurities and self loathing onto him that he now expected to be blamed. Just like her. They shared that same expectation, that same sadness and she vowed to do her utmost to banish it from both of their spirits. She would ask him to help her and make it clear that she was there for him, too. Love was about support as well as protection, after all...

She grasped his hands. She loved his hands. They were big and warm, strong but tender. His hands could hold an ax to split wood. His hands could hold a pen to paper, signing and redrafting bills for his country. His hands held his children, would curl into fists to defend them and all of those he loved. Those hands caressed her skin, played with her hair, adored her flaws and all and she certainly did have flaws. Deep flaws and raging demons inside of her that were long overdue to be addressed. She would do it, not just for them but for herself. She had spent so much of her life alone and sad, internalizing every slight, every criticism. She had taught herself not to trust, not to believe in anything that she couldn't predict or control. She had existed but she hadn't lived. She wanted to live, now. Olivia wanted to have a full life, filled with ups and downs that weren't so extreme. She just...she wanted to be happy and for that to happen, things would have to change, including…

"As for OPA, I've been meaning to close it, anyway. I'm good at what I do, the best but...it doesn't make me happy, anymore. It _**never**_ did, to be honest and these last two years, with one bad thing after the other after the other happening to me, to my Gladiators...the risk isn't worth the reward, anymore. Harrison's dead. Abby's doing well with you, thank God but she was circling the drain. I don't even _**know**_ what Huck and Quinn are. I just know that the both of them in a bad place needing help. I lost you in the wake of Defiance. We got back together and promptly hit the skids again because neither of us know how to just talk to each other when it matters. You leaked my name and all hell broke loose, Rowan came back into my life and helped me be my own worst enemy to suit his purposes. There were the disasters with Jake and Russell. I got kidnapped and...I will get another job, Fitz. If no one will hire me, I'll make one of my own. Maybe I'll keep Fixing on a smaller scale but as for OPA? No. I'm done. I'll protect my People like I should've when I left for the Island but...even if this didn't happen right now, even if we were still apart, I'd shut it down. I need to. I can't Fix people when I can't even Fix myself. I used the Clients as a crutch and a distraction so I wouldn't have to deal with my issues and I can't do that anymore. If I want to have a real shot at being happy again, if we're going to work like we deserve to, then I need to face my demons head on and either get rid of them altogether or learn how to cope with them in a healthy way."

 _ **/**_

 **H** e scoffed a little, shaking his head. Before all of it was said and done and they were settled, finally, he knew they would end up screaming at each other, crying, fucking, and making love until all of their feelings were on the table. They weren't screaming yet, but Fitz sure felt like it. They were digging up hurt that he had long since forced himself to bury. It was forcing its way back up from his gut where it had been hidden beneath his swollen pride. Pride that was slowly deflating.

He listened. When she was on a roll, and clearly she was, he had learned to let her finish before he interrupted her. Even if the interruption was to call her out on her bullshit. She had some good points. Yes, he had almost always given her an out. He had never held her within the confines of their relationship against her will. And usually, yes, she was there on the other end, even if distantly, mirroring his affection. But that wasn't always true. She had chosen Olivia Pope and Associates over him before. She had bolted when they had been right on the precipice of being together. She was right. OPA had a way of destroying things. Of opening them up to vulnerabilities that they didn't see right away. And she cited excellent examples, to include her kidnapping. He didn't miss the way she paused there, and he made a note to press her about that later. There were things that had happened to them over time that they hadn't deal with. That they hadn't gotten over.

But he wasn't sure he believed her. He wanted to. God, he wanted to, but they had been here before. This time was different because they had announced to the public that they were together, that they were in love, but she could just as easily run if she got scared. She could bolt in the night and leave him with nothing but humiliation and heartache. Things had to be different or they would sink before they had even began to sail. She had said it. That the needed to face her demons head on and cope with them properly.

But would she? Or would she resort to old habits to save herself from the pain?  
" _ **Reaching back**_?" He almost laughed at the absurdity of her statement. Every time he had reached out she had been reaching back? It was bitter hilarity.

It was a lie.

"So before I ran for a second term, you ran from me and chose to go back to OPA. When I was willing to give it all up for you. You ran. That was _**reaching back**_?" he asked, his mouth almost sneering at her. "I'll take half of the blame. I'll take more than half, but you're not going to sit here and honestly tell me that every time I asked you to be with me you were all in. That's a lie and we both know it."

If she wanted to take some blame, he was going to make sure she took ownership of things she had actually done. She left him. Over and over. One could argue that 'fixing' wasn't the only thing she was good at. Leaving. She was excellent at leaving him when things got rough. When he needed her the most.

He'd rather die than watch her leave him again. _**That**_ , he knew.

Fitz stood, needing the space, and walked over to the hidden compartment in the wall that opened to a small liquor cabinet. When she was touching him, he lost his thoughts. He knew that he wouldn't be able to say how he really felt when she was touching him. His jaw was clenched hard, surely to ache later, as he poured himself three fingers of scotch. It was normal for him to want to drown his feelings in the alcohol. All of the things he didn't want to feel.

" **You run, Livvie. It's what you do**." He sipped at his glass. "You ran from being Press Secretary. You ran back to OPA when we had a plan to be together. You ran after Gerry died."

Then he looked over at her, his cobalt eyes brimming with tears. Yes, he was angry. Yes, he was scared and frustrated, at her, at all of it. But beneath all of that was the hurt that had compiled over the years. The ache that so many of her actions had caused him. The pain that he was afraid he would end up feeling all over again if their relationship went belly up.

 _ **/**_

 **H** er ego smarted at his confrontational tone but Olivia ignored the urge to snap back at him. It wouldn't do them an ounce of good and it wasn't like he was wrong. She did run away, time and time again, mainly without any warning and with a martyred, joy phobic excuse at the ready. Fitz had been trying to be with her openly and she found a way to ruin it every time. She would get in her own way. She would take the easy way out. She would...

Not anymore. It was time to stand her ground and right now, she didn't need to be defensive. She needed to be honest. Honesty would be the only thing that would get through the hurt he justly felt, the anger and disappointment.

"You're right. I _**do**_ run. I deflect, I run, and I hurt people before they can hurt me. I assume the worst of people and I assumed the worst of you. That's why I ran from being your Press Secretary. That's why I sabotaged our first plan to be together."

"Why did you run when Gerry died? You knew that I would need you and you ran. Not only did you run, you didn't even say goodbye. I thought something horrible had happened to you, Olivia. I thought that Rowan or your mother or some new psychopath had gotten a hold to you and I'd end up hearing a police report about you being torn apart on the side of a road."

"And then you found out that I left willingly. That's...that's why you..."

She couldn't even finish the sentence. Ever since Tom had told her about his visit to her apartment looking for her and what happened afterwards...she knew that it wasn't all her fault. He had grieving his son, his son that had been so cruelly, painfully stolen from him but...he had thought she was dead. He had thought that someone had taken her life and finding out that she was alive, finding out that she was gone from a secondhand source...she had done the wrong thing when she left for the Island. She had known that from the time she made the decision but…

"I wasn't thinking about anyone but myself. What else is new? I focused on my fears, on my shame, and I thought that leaving OPA, leaving you...I thought you all would be better off without me. Everyone was being targeted and I set the ball in motion when I tried to take down B613 the first time. Rowan got the idea in his head that you had tainted me, stolen me, so he retaliated in the worst way he could think of. I know that what he did, what he ordered Tom to do was not my fault. You told me that it wasn't my fault but...I wasn't thinking. I was running. Again. And then, I didn't leave alone..."

"I don't care about that, Olivia."

That was a lie. That was a bald faced lie and they both knew it. He was trying to be comforting. He was still angry at her but her honesty, the long overdue honesty she was showing him was softening him again. Normally, she'd end the conversation where it was, distracting him with a change of subject or a kiss but she couldn't. Not yet. She had to explain. She had to make him understand why she had taken Jake with her, why she had remained with Jake after she returned for so long. It wasn't because she loved him. Absolutely not. She would admit to having feelings for Jake, to caring deeply about him but never love. He was a surrogate for the man she really loved, a stop gap measure to keep Rowan from hurting the man in front of her, her father's minion that she could control but he was never her love. Jake Ballard had gotten her body but not her heart. No matter how much he had wanted it, no matter how many times he told her that he loved her, Olivia just couldn't give him her heart. She had...she had used him to hide, to deflect, and to run away once again...

Fitz still didn't know that, though. He thought that she had taken Jake, chosen Jake out of love. She had to make him understand...

"Yes, you do. I left with Jake. I wasn't planning to. He showed up at my place and he wouldn't leave and I felt like I had to save someone. I had already failed in everything else. Saving people is what I do and I know you needed me but...I just couldn't face you. My parents killed your firstborn. Maya and Rowan would've never targeted you that way if you didn't love me and if I didn't love you and I do love you. I do. My actions don't always reflect it but I do love you. I'm just not very good at it, is all."

"...you weren't reaching back for me, Olivia. You were letting me chase you and you...maybe you were reaching back in your heart but your actions, your words..."

"I understand. You don't trust me like you used to, which makes complete sense. If I were you, I would've given up on me a long time ago. You'd probably be better off if you..."

"You don't get to decide that, Olivia! I'm not a child that you can choose what's best for me without even considering my choices! Maybe I am better off without you and hell, maybe you're better off without me! Well, no maybe about it, now..."

"Don't say that! I told you that it's not your fault and I love you and...and... _oh, god_. This is what I did to you. You always left final say to me but I never let you... _ **damn it!**_ "

The tears she had been holding at bay finally fell and she hid her face in her hands, unable to look at him as she sobbed. If she was hurt from him saying it once, then he must've felt devastated every time she undervalued their connection, demeaned the love he showed her as nothing but a pie in the sky dream or just lust. She had steamrolled over his feelings, his agency to protect herself. She said it was to protect him and his Administration but that just wasn't true. Hindsight was 20/20 and looking back on all the times she had left, she could see so many other ways she could've Handled things, _**They**_ could've Handled things. If she had just talked to him, if she had just listened to him and heard him, if she had only asked for his help...she had done it with Clients. She had asked for their input and then took it into account with solving their problems. Why hadn't she been able to do it with Fitz?

She already knew the answer to that question and it made a neat circle back to her issues. She hadn't asked or cared about what he wanted because what he wanted would have them together openly for sure, which she wanted desperately but didn't think she deserved. She didn't think that she deserved to be happy. She didn't think that she was worthy of being loved, of being sacrificed for. She had been afraid that he would leave her or...resent her for giving up his career, just like he was worried about her resenting him, now. And he certainly had reason to fear her leaving him again because that was her MO with him. She had done it so many times before and he didn't trust her fully but he still trusted her enough to have her with him, now. He still trusted her enough to not only sign divorce papers but to go out in front of an international audience and claim her, praise her, love her.

She could still leave him.

She could still run away again and break his heart again.

She could... _ **but she wouldn't.**_

 **No more running.**

 **No more lying.**

 **It was time to stand her ground, to fight, to...** **  
**  
He sat back down next to her and she raised her head to look at him. He was still upset, very upset but he wiped her tears away with tender fingertips, tender eyes. She leaned into the touch and rested her head on his shoulder, shuddering with emotion.

 _"Fitz, I..."_

"We'll talk more later, Livvie."  
 _  
_ _"But, I still need to explain..."_

"We have time, Livvie. We have time for all of it, now. You're overwhelmed right now and so am I. We'll talk more later."

 _"...okay. I...I want to talk later. I really do. Bad things happen when we don't talk and I don't want to make the same mistakes anymore. I want to make new ones."_

A beat and then, Olivia smiled shakily as Fitz's chest rumbled with laughter, closing her eyes as he held her tighter. She was glad for it and it was proof that they were already stronger together. In the past, a blowout like this would have them sullen and separate, Olivia planning her retreat and Fitz resigned to it. The fact that he was holding her and that Olivia had no plans to leave, wasn't even thinking about leaving was good.

No, not good.

It was _**great.**_

 _ **/**_

 **M** ost men wouldn't be thankful for arguments with their lovers, but believe it or not, Fitz was. In the past, they had thrown a few one-liners around, handed out an emotion filled monologue and kept it moving. This was good. Different. Progress. They were touching the tip of the oh-so-chilled iceberg that was their problems. They could scream and yell at each other for days, and while in the short term it might make him feel terrible, he would still be thankful for it. Whatever it took for her, for them, to get their feelings laid out on the table so they could work through them. Hell, he'd let her hit him if it would help. He was desperate to make it work with her.

She was everything.

And she was acknowledging her pattern of running.

He pressed her further and dug in. She left him when he had been so vulnerable. Right after Gerry had been taken from him. The loss of two of the most important people in his life. How did she expect him to survive that?

There it was.

She was realizing, piecing it together, that he almost hadn't survived it. That yes, she did play a role in the little melodrama that featured his suicide attempt.

He nodded, letting her know that he understood where she was going with it. She didn't have to say it. Not yet. It seemed like she was just as afraid to talk about it as he was. Talking about it made it real. Finding out she had left, on her own accord instead of somehow against her will, had been the straw that broke his aching back. With her, he could have weathered the storm of losing Gerry much easier. In her company, he would have grieved in healthier ways. That, he knew. But in her absence, he had fallen into one of the darkest places he had ever visited. The pitch black corners of his depressed mind swallowed him.

He had almost killed himself.

If Mellie hadn't found him that night, they wouldn't even be on Marine One having their  
conversation.

He could see her mindset, the line of thinking she had followed that had led to her leaving. He didn't agree, but he could see it. Her logic. Logic that was normally nearly flawless, but clearly it had failed her with that decision. She had been wrong.

Fitz was far from better off without her.

He lied through his teeth about not caring that she had left alone, and rightfully, she called him out on it. She knew how incredibly jealous he had been of Jake. Of any other man who had touched her since they began their relationship. And frankly, plenty of those jealous and possessive feelings still stewed under the surface, threatening to spill forth at any time. They both knew that. But he wasn't sure that he believed her reasons for taking Jake with her. Maybe that was just the bitterness talking. He couldn't say for sure. But it still didn't settle well with him, those thoughts of her and Jake, together, out of his reach and control. If he had thought it was what she really wanted, it wouldn't bother him quite so much. However, Fitz knew better. He knew who she loved. Just as she kept saying it right then, he knew, and he nodded. No, she wasn't very good at showing it.

She would have to work on that.

Just as there were plenty of things he would have to work on and deal with. That piping hot jealousy, for one.

And he told her like it was. She hadn't reached back to grasp his waiting hand. She simply hadn't, and it left him with fractured trust. He loved her, desperately, but she would have to prove to him that she was in, all in, this time. No exceptions. No running. No loopholes that gave her a justifiable reason to kick off her shoes and get gone.

They were done with that.

And there it was.

They both thought the other would be better off without them.  
God, they were two incredibly fucked up people. No wonder no one else would have them. No one else could have them. They were two broken toys, only functional when placed together.

She stopped talking then, her tears taking over, after threatening to spill for too long. Somehow, he had held his at bay, but when he retook his seat beside of her, his thumbs gently wiping the drops from her cheeks, he blinked and they trickled down his face  
silently. He took her into his embrace, letting her curl into his side.

They would talk later.

In short bursts, they would handle it. They would work through their problems and make it out fine on the other side.

"New mistakes?" He chuckled, the sound low in his chest, vibrating against her head where it rested on his shoulder. "Okay," he agreed.

New mistakes, he could do. Constantly rehashing old and repetitive mistakes, he was done with.

"I've told you before, there's nothing you could do that I wouldn't forgive. I have forgiven you…I just haven't forgotten."

They could feel the helicopter descending, letting them know that they were arriving at their destination. Their home. The house he had built for her. Where they would spend the rest of their lives together.

Fitz pulled her into his lap, her body draped across him. His arms wrapped around her and flexed, squeezing her in a secure, but not binding, hug. Letting her know that he was there to support her, to comfort her in all things, even if the thing she needed to be comforted about was himself.

"I know we have a lot to talk through, but we'll be fine," he assured her, pressing a kiss to her temple sweetly. "I love you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Good evening, folks. And now for what HandsUp and I have aptly entitled 'the sex chapter'. There's still some plot and introspection but this one's mainly about the Olitz citrus and the tenderness in between rounds. We're not done yet.** **There are still the confrontations with Rowan, Cyrus, and Mellie to cover and definitely more with the Liv/Fitz Conversation with a capital 'C'. Don't get me wrong,** **I'm happy as hell about the Olitz progress we've been getting on the television but they still need to sit down and talk about the past, the present, and the future so they don't fall apart. Or at least if they do, it's not because of old wounds. Anyways, sit down, relax and enjoy the latest!**

 **Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

 _ **"...we've yet to hear back from Senator Grant's office about the Divorce but sources confirm that President Grant has signed the filed papers. Typically, it takes 6 months for divorce proceedings to go through the District of Columbia but that's only when both parties are in agreement. Given the facts that Senator Grant's signature is missing on the documents and that this is a Presidential divorce, the timeline is a mystery. Another mystery is why Congress didn't immediately accept the President's resignation. The incident with Monica Lewinsky proves that..."**_

 **O** livia pressed the mute button on the television and continued watching the news that had been playing on the flat screen television in their living room. After pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips, Fitz had gone upstairs and the distance didn't worry her. Like he said in the helicopter, they were both overwhelmed and taking a break from the Conversation would do them good. Plus, it wasn't like either of them could go anywhere if they wanted to. Well, they could...Marine One was less than 20 minutes away in a hangar but that wasn't happening. Now that they were in their home, now that she was in their home, she had no intention of leaving its grounds without making more headway with Fitz personally and without making a solid Plan of Action for when they returned to DC.

Whatever Plan of Action they used, it wouldn't just be his plan or her plan. It would be their plan from foundation to rooftop.

Before, when something like this happened between them she would be working on all cylinders by herself with aid with her remaining contacts. Now, she was waiting for Fitz. He had raised a valid point during their time in the Residence. Since he was just as entangled as she was and on paper, he had much more to lose than she did, it made the most sense for him to be involved in Handling/Fixing them. And it wasn't like she was dealing with a typical Client. It was Fitz and he was a brilliant man. He was book smart, life smart, and he knew the Game as well as she did. Hell, he knew it better than she did because he had grown up around it with Big Jerry. If she had just reached out to him before, if only she had read him in and kept Mellie and Cyrus on the sidelines...she had broken a cardinal rule of her job: **When you have access to the best, use it to the full. Whether it's Intel on money laundering or what position felt the best in the bedroom, you use it.** Fitzgerald Grant III had been like an untapped oil field that she had refused to use because she was too scared of being happy and this time, Olivia let the regret come up. This time though, the regret was tempered with real hope.

They couldn't go back and get a do-over but they could be in it together, now. Fitz had stayed in the Arena sands all by himself for too long. It was time for her to jump in and help him earn their freedom. Opponents, old and new would come. They would even draw blood but they would not win. She and Fitz would. They would get through the Media storm raging outside and the emotional storms raging inside of them and they would win.

Running was _**not**_ an option.

Failure was _**not**_ an option...

The image behind the anchors changed from the split screen of the White House and a surrounded OPA to footage of their walk across the South Lawn. It had been uploaded to YouTube and it was already three-quarters to 8 million hits. She could see that their movements were perfectly in sync and a high powered zoom lens got the money shot of her kissing his cheek. Her eyes had been shut when she did it but now, she could see the raw relief on Fitz's face as she disappeared into the helicopter. It was their first kiss in the open, in broad daylight. Part of her wished that she had been bolder, that she had planted a big wet one on him but the more rational part of her approved. It was an affectionate gesture, a claiming gesture but not one that was too brash. Supporters of Mellie would still say that she was salting the wounds she had cruelly inflicted on their precious Antebellum baby but Olivia knew that down the line, the kiss would be praised for its restraint. Once the Lawn Crossing clip ended and restarted, Olivia unmuted the TV and a new anchor from BBC began to weigh in...

 _ **"...the story is reminiscent to when Edward VIII faced an abdication crisis when he chose Wallis Simpson to be his wife. Although, Olivia Pope is not the married party, there are many in the country who will not be able to get past the circumstances of her and President Grant coming together. That's not to say that there isn't love between them. Obviously, there is if they're willing to expose themselves to Media scrutiny on such a grand scale but the question of whether Grant will be able to remain in the Oval with her by his side still needs to be answered. Congress has yet to accept the President's resignation but there is a growing outcry for his impeachment, spearheaded by Sally Langston..."**_

"Of _**course**_ she's spearheading it. After all, she's the Chosen One to lead America back into a state of spiritual cleanliness. Of course, if she really believed that, she'd leave her faith out of her business to begin with. There's supposed to be a strict separation between Church and State."

"There is but that rule is only applicable when they're the ones in trouble. Otherwise, they're too busy hitting people over the heads with their Bibles."

Fitz laughed at that and she turned the TV off to give him her full attention. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, barefoot and his dress shirt was completely unbuttoned, giving her a nice view of his toned and sculpted torso. The heat that had blossomed between them the night before and in Marine One returned to her lower abdomen and coiled slowly. They still needed to talk, really they did but she wanted him again. The night before hadn't been enough. She would never get enough of his kisses, his hands, his tongue and cock stroking inside her in all of the ways that made her moan, scream, beg...

Just like she had during their first time here, she crossed the distance between them with sure steps, grabbed him by the face, and kissed him deeply.

 _ **/**_

 **D** espite the thin tension that lingered between them, Fitz didn't let it put a wedge between them as they got off of the helicopter and made their way into the house. His arm wrapped around her and his hand grasped her hip as they walked across the yard, her arm mimicked his gesture as she gave him a squeeze. They were okay. They would be okay. The house looked so much bigger in the daylight, he had to admit. He had put so much thought and effort into every single detail of their home, and finally, they were walking into it together. It was good.

It was _**great**_.

But they still had battles to fight with each other, but not against each other. No. Not as enemies, but as allies. They were going to lay out a plan and work through it. Conquer it all. Conquer their foes. Conquer the goddamned _**world**_ if they had to. **It was their time.**

They had lost a few battles in the past.

But they would be damned if they didn't win the war.

Fitz could tell that she needed some space from the heaviness of the conversation they had delved into on the flight. They both needed a few moments away from each other, to let it air out. They had gotten some feelings out into the open, but it was something they should probably handle in small doses. There was entirely too much between them, too much hurt and way too much to say. It couldn't all be done at once. Not without one of them storming out in a rage.

They didn't do things like that anymore.

They wouldn't.

They might not be able to completely let go of everything without discussing it, but it had to be done in moderation if the intention was to survive it together. There would be enough people trying to tear them apart. They couldn't be doing the same.

He watched her take in the room for a moment, a small smile on his mouth. The house was a little different than when she had seen it last. She had told him not to sell it and he had taken that to heart, even though they had remained apart. Even though she had left. She had given him hope, so he had poured that hope into their home. The furniture was new. A navy blue sofa that had unbearably comfortable, fluffy cushions, and a chair that matched. All of the wood accents in the room were dark grain. High quality was a way to describe the entire structure. He hadn't skimped on anything. For her, there would only be the best. He so looked forward to watching her discover every room, every detail, that he had created.

She had taken a seat on the couch and turned on the television. It didn't surprise him that she was eager to hear what the media was saying about them. It was in her nature to at least keep an eye on such things. For the time being, he decided he would let her be. She could have her moment, observing and thinking about the decisions they had made thus far and what they were going to do next. He walked over and gave her a sweet, long kiss and a smile before retreating upstairs.

He took to the office, kicking off his shoes and socks by the door. He shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over the armchair habitually, his loose tie joining it. All of the other rooms would surely grow to have Olivia written all over them, but that room was his. His tidy, masculine office space. He took solace there, and knew that he would in the future as well. Untucking and unbuttoning his dress shirt, he sat in his leather chair and propped his feet up onto the desk, sighing. His hand took his phone from his pants pocket and he took a moment to check out what the headlines were saying as well. Just to get an idea of where they were publicly.

 **'President Grant confirms Olivia Pope as long-time mistress…'**

God, he really fucking hated that word. How _ **dare**_ they reduce her to that when they had no idea? When they didn't know the depth of what they felt for each other?

 **'POTUS files for divorce. Will FLOTUS sign, or put up a fight?'**

Their guess was as good as Fitz's but if Mellie had any sense, she'd sign. Politically, Fitz had nothing to lose, but Mellie…it was only the beginning for her.

 **'Leaving for Love? President Grant offers resignation to Congress to focus on 'loving openly.''**

There. Someone had it right.

There were three photos that he kept seeing as he scrolled through articles, all from their moment on the South Lawn before boarding Marine One. One of them walking hand in hand, one from afar as she kissed his cheek, and another close up of the kiss that featured his smile. That made him smile again as he saw it the first time. She would love that one, he knew. This was what their life was going to be from then on. The public itching and yearning to have eyes on them every second possible. One day soon he would snatch her up and kiss the life out of her, just to give the cameras something good to capture.

He took a deep breath, feeling himself begin to relax. They were doing the right thing. It would take time to get exactly where they wanted to be, but they would get there. He was sure.

Fitz made his way back downstairs and leaned against the doorjamb, crossing his arms as he watched the television for a moment from behind her, undetected.

They were comparing him to Edward VIII. Cute.

At least some of the media were acknowledging that this wasn't some sleazy affair. Some actually believed him when he said he was in love with her.

That was a good question. Would Congress allow him to remain President? Was there anything more he, THEY, could do to sway them?

Mustang Sally. Swooping in and trying to sway opinions with her bible-thumping crazy. It made him laugh, which drew Olivia's attention to him, causing her to click the television off.

Her eyes were heavy on him and he let himself smirk slightly. Any other woman could look at him like that and Fitz wouldn't bat and eye. But Olivia, it meant so much more coming from her. It did things to him. His shirt hung open and his undershirt was snug against his chest, which was exactly what she was staring at. That look. He knew that look, like she was about to eat him alive.

And she pounced.

He returned her kiss eagerly, shrugging off his loose shirt and letting it drop before gripping the small of her back and pulling her to him. Flush against his hard body.

"Mmm, all that bible talk got you hot, huh?" he snarked, one of his hands snaking down to give her ass a firm squeeze.

 _ **/**_

 **I** nstead of replying with words, Olivia decided to answer by lightly raking her nails over his back. The pressure wouldn't break the skin but it was just firm enough to make goosebumps erupt in their wake. His right hand spanned the small of her back and she shivered as he drew her lower half to his with familiar gentle force. His left hand went to the space where her neck and jaw met and she accepted his kiss eagerly. It was still jarring to feel his left hand on her without his wedding ring but it was a good sort of jarring. A vicious sort of triumph filled her at the memory of her chucking that ring. The memory wouldn't replace the horrid one of her throwing her Ring at him but it would provide balance. For the longest time, the bad memories outnumbered the good but things were different, now.

His wedding ring, his wedding _**shackle**_ was gone and he was all hers, now. Even if (when) Mellie found ways to delay the divorce, everyone knew that Fitzgerald Grant III was all hers. There was no going back on that.

Slowly, they ascended the staircase, still kissing and her dress hit the floor at the top of the stairs, along with his belt. Olivia gasped as he hoisted her up and locked her ankles around his hips as he pressed her against the nearest wall, his lips descending aggressively to her neck. Electric butterflies erupted in her stomach and she shamelessly thrust against his fingers as they slid into her panties. He rubbed slow then fast circles over her pulsing clit and she whimpered as cool air touched her left hip. The now ruined panties fell to the floor between them and her fingers nimbly undid the button and zipper of his pants, the both of them shoving at them. They were in the way. She needed them out of the way and Fitz back inside her where he belonged. She wanted him so badly and...

" _ **Fitz!**_ "

Answering her needy cry, he surged into her with a low snarl.

 _ **/**_

 **H** er nails, even through his shirt, drew a soft groan from his throat as they made their way down his back. It showed her need and teased him. He'd rather her claw at him while he was inside of her, her desperation to come more than she could stand.

Fitz wasn't the kinkiest guy ever, but he loved when she left marks on him as a result of their passion. Little reminders of how well he had pleased her. Little ego boosts that would make him smirk afterward. Even when they stung the next day in the shower.

It really was the little things.

They couldn't have each other fast enough, it seemed. As their kisses grew hotter, frenzied even, his ache for her grew. She was his, finally, and he couldn't get enough of her. He was aflame for her and no one else.

His hands roamed her body, grasping and clutching desperately as he carefully backed her up the staircase. He fumbled with the zipper of her dress for a moment, growling in frustration when it didn't budge. With both hands, he gripped either side of the garment and tugged, hard. The ripping of the fabric was a satisfying sound to his ears, his lips never leaving hers as she stepped out of the pooled plum dress.

Easily, Fitz lifted her, intending on carrying her into the bedroom, but his balance faltered and he stumbled, catching himself by throwing up his hand against the wall behind her. The way her legs were clenching around him, he knew they weren't going to make it to bed. He kissed her neck savagely, nipping at her soft skin.

They weren't holding anything back. Not anymore.

When he felt how drenched her sex was, his breath caught and his cock twitched with want. The panties were constricting his motions and were altogether in the goddamned way. In a single motion, he tore them from her and let them drop. He was panting for her then, his desire seeping hot through his skin. He was wearing way too much, he knew, still standing in his shirt and trousers. With a little teamwork, they hastily pressed his pants and underwear down, just far enough to...

The sound he made was nothing short of animalistic as he slammed harshly into her, his teeth finding and sinking into her shoulder. It was almost too much, the feel of her heat around him, sheathing his length. He began a slow but rough rhythm. Each thrust was more intense and less forgiving as the last, a low growl brewing in his chest.

 _ **/**_

 **A** ll she could do was receive him.

She wasn't going anywhere unless he allowed her to and the last thing she wanted was to move away from him.

His movements inside her were forceful and stayed on that fleeting edge between pleasure and pain. His grip on her spread thighs was tight and her front clasp bra was undone, allowing her breasts to sway and bounce freely. Her nails were now leaving deep grooves in his shoulders and Olivia cried out as his wicked hips found all of the places deep inside of her. Her head was spinning and her pulse was racing. Fitz's body was pressed full length against hers and he was determined to kill her. She would die of bliss...

" **Look at me.** "

She whimpered.

" _ **Look. At. Me!**_ "

Gasping, moaning, sobbing, she obeyed him and swallowed thickly at the possessive fire within his fevered gaze. Olivia had seen hints of it in the past but it was never so blatant. It made sense for it to be blatant. They were in their house, in Vermont, and on the cusp of the life they never thought they'd get to have together. Also, there were the lingering specters of Jake Ballard and Franklin Russell in his mind, perhaps Edison Davis, too. Logically, he knew that he was the married one and he knew that Olivia was officially single, therefore she could be with anyone she pleased but his ego, his wounded heart, his aching heart seethed with jealousy. Olivia had been jealous, too but only because Mellie got to be by his side in public. She got to be on his arm and have his babies and have the Grant name. She knew that it was her own fault after they met but still, the jealousy, the possessive and obsessive _**need**_...

 _ **"Are you mine, Olivia?"**_

 _ **"Yes!"**_

 _ **"Am I yours, Olivia?"**_

 **"** _ **Yes!**_ **"**

 **"...** _ **good.**_ **"**

He thrust once, twice, a half dozen times more and Olivia shattered with a moaning, high pitched cry of bliss. Fitz's lips pressed against hers and she continued to scream for him, squirm for him, come for him. His fingers went to her humid heat, searing where they were joined and stoked her fires higher, making her head fall back.

" _ **Say my name...say it, Livvie**_..."

" _ **Fitz-ger-**_ **ald!** "

 _ **/**_

 **A** ll he could do was take her.

He was drawn to her like a moth to the light, only knowing that it would end in nirvana. Sex with Olivia was like a religious experience. The end all be all of his existence.

She had, somehow, coaxed his arms up long enough to tug his shirt over his head. When that happened, he had no idea. But he knew she had, because she was raking relentless streaks all over his back and shoulders as he fucked her just as relentlessly. His eyes stayed on her face, watching for any indication that pain had overpowered pleasure. She'd be sore. All over. He rarely had her that way, but when he did, he knew she felt it for at least a day afterward. He possessed her, and she would feel his claim. Just as he would feel hers. Her body clamped tighter against him and he gave a soft, strangled cry, fighting to steel himself against his growing pleasure. He clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring. Surely, he'd die this time. Surely, her body would be the end of him.

When her eyes found him, he growled, and gave an open-mouthed grin that could almost be described as evil. Devilish. It certainly wasn't an angelic expression. Not the way he was bucking his hips against her in long, rigorous strokes. There was nothing of heaven about the way he looked at her. Nothing at all. It was all dominance. Raw, unbridled dominance. A dominance that few knew Fitz was even capable of. Yet, if she asked for control back, he would relinquish it to her. Because underneath it all, was a love that threatened to tear him apart. A love that took his breath and controlled every muscle and tendon that flexed as he gave her the pleasure she ached for. Love that took everything from him while also giving him everything.

 **She was everything.**  
 **  
** **She was his everything.**

His voice was coarse. Commanding. The sound impassioned and resonate, reverberating in the space between them.

He never tired of her telling him who she belonged to. Confirming that she was his. The verification that he belonged to her. That they were each other's. That they belonged to nothing or no one else. Professionally, Fitz might be property of the United States, but underneath his suit, in his heart, he belonged only to Olivia Pope.

Sweat slicked his torso from his efforts, his curl having fallen onto his forehead. His upper body quivered as he felt her peak course through her, her body, inside and out, gripping him tighter. He gasped against her lips before claiming them, kissing her fiercely. He was close. So close. But he didn't let her come down from her high, his fingers deftly circling her clit, pushing her further. Higher.

" _ **Yes, Fitz! Don't stop**_ _…_ "

His teeth sunk into the flesh of her neck as she threw her head back in rapture, bruising her. Branding her with his seal without apology.

His chest heaved, his thrusts pushing the limits, slamming her hips against the wall and pressing her upward against it in the rigid, quickening tempo. With each strike of his hips against her, he groaned, whimpered, nearing his own release.

" _ **Livvie**_ …" he grunted in warning, his fingers moving faster, eager to draw another orgasm from her.

She didn't disappoint.

" _ **Fitz, baby!**_ " she cried out, her back arching and her body pulsing against him as each wave hit her. Hard.

His breath was labored, uneven, as his climax hit him, the power of it blinding and staggering.

" _ **Olivia!**_ " he roared, his face contorting into what bordered on pain. He spilled into her deeply, his hips slowing as he rode out the swells of their rapture.

He stilled, panting, burying his face in her neck. After a moment, he lowered her onto shaky and unsteady legs, his hand staying at her waist to steady her.

 _ **/**_

 **A** lthough Fitz had placed her back on her feet, Olivia still kept close to him. Aftershocks jolted through her mind and body, causing her to whimper, moan when her thighs clenched. His right hand rested on the flare of her hip and his left hand was braced against the wall behind her to steady himself. She looked at his left hand and slowly, reverently stroked his bare ring finger, memorizing the feel of it without cool metal, at least for the time being.

His eyes drifted open and slowly explored her body. The passion marks from the Residence were now joined by fresh ones on her clavicle and the tops of her breasts. Said breasts were exposed by the bra she still wore, the lavender lace providing a showcase of her flushed sepia toned skin and budded dusky rose nipples. The muscles in her flat abdomen jumped and her knees wobbled like a newborn calf's. Olivia shivered as the tip of his tongue went over his lips as his right fingers dipped between her inner thighs and when he held them up to her lips, she took them without hesitation.

Once he was satisfied that she was done with them, Fitz stepped forward and her bra ended up draped over the banister, much to her giggling amusement. Fitz's lips pursed against his own laughter and she moaned as he pressed her against the wall again, leaving her no room to escape. She was deliciously trapped between the coolness of the wall and the heat pouring off of her man. Her man, all hers now...there was no need for her to be jealous, anymore. No longer did they have to watch the clock, no longer would they have to steal away for time together, and blessedly, she would never have to sit and watch another 'happy POTUS/FLOTUS interview' between him and Mellie. Deciding to honest, deciding to let Fitz be completely honest about them was one of the best decisions she had made in a very long time. No one could manipulate them anymore. No one could threaten them with exposure anymore to get them to do what they claimed was best for America but what was really best for their leeching selves.

They were free. Well, almost. There was still the matter of getting Fitz legally divorced plus they had only scratched the surface of all of the things they needed to talk about but overall, they were _**free**_.

Both of his hands roamed freely over her nude body, stroking, cupping, and squeezing her. Olivia raised her arms to give him better access and he grabbed both of her wrists in one hand. The other removed his boxers and pants to where they could be kicked towards the staircase. Now, it was her turn to explore him with her eyes.

He had been working out more, she noted. He was even more defined them before and there wasn't a bit of extra fat on him. His hair was starting to grow out again and the dark chocolate now had a distinct silver tinge to it, especially at his temples. She could see where her teeth had nipped at his clavicle and her nails had clawed at his sides, his hips. His climax had softened him to half readiness and her fingers twitched at the idea of getting her hands on him, her mouth on him...that was what they would do next.

Damn, even his _**feet**_ were sexy. How could a man have sexy feet? It didn't make any sense...

"Do I pass inspection, Ms. Pope?"

She nodded and accepted his kiss with smiling lips. He let go of her wrists and she pushed away from the wall, joining him in the middle of the hallway. There was a long purple rug that extended down the hall before turning the corner and Olivia decided to follow it. There was an office on her left and her lips quirked at the sight of his tie draped over the collar of his suit jacket. He always did that. His shoes were in the doorway and one of his socks had escaped from its shoe. Idly, she knelt down and tucked it back in, feeling Fitz's gaze on her. He hadn't moved from his spot and she looked over her shoulder at him questioningly.

 _"...am I dreaming?_ "

"No, you're not. I'm really here and you need be more careful with your socks."

Both of them laughed at her good natured fussing, a _**wife's**_ good natured fussing, and Olivia continued her journey down the hall. Fitz was now next to her, opening doors that she stopped at. Half bathroom, bedroom, an office for her, bedroom, a linen closet...a home. She was exploring their home, a home that he had built for them, a place where they could love and grow together for the rest of their lives...

"Where's our bedroom?"

 _ **/**_

 **H** is head was heavy and foggy in the wake of their pleasure. But that's how it usually was. She made his head spin, and then her body got him drunk. Blurry at the edges. Out of focus. His smile was small, but dopey, as she traced her fingertips over the tan line where his wedding band used to be. Reminding herself that he belonged to her now.

That he didn't care who knew.

He wanted everyone to know.

She was perfect, in image. Besides the marks left behind by him and their lovemaking, some that hadn't even come to life yet, her skin was smooth and practically flawless. She was all lithe muscle with subtle curves in all the right places that would sneak up on him. His hands smoothed over her form, caressing her with the gentleness that contradicted the downright savage way he had fucked her. The frame of her hips, the swell of her breasts, the crook of her clavicle. The delicious way that her lower back dipped in with the shape of her spine and spanned out, allowing for the perfection that was her ass. He hummed then, as he delicately squeezed it with both hands, his teeth lightly biting his lower lip. God, he loved her ass. They both knew it. His fingers traced over her sex, touching her just enough to wet them and offer her a taste, which she took. If he hadn't felt the efforts of what they had just done falling over him, making him feel old, the feel of her mouth on his fingers might have roused him again.

She was going to talk _**so**_ much smack about him getting old. He knew it.

He pulled her bra off of her and pinned her to the wall, his body holding her much more lightly than before, but still securing her there as he kept exploring her body. As if he was seeing her for the first time. It was the first time he was seeing it in that way in their home. The last time there had been different. It had been dark. They had been desperate, clinging to each other. Unwilling to waste a single moment. It was different. While the sex had been frantic, they had all of the time in the world. It would take some time for that realization to set in. For both of them. Fitz knew that there would be many more moments of frantic need like the one they had just had. Along with many long nights filled with drawn out lovemaking. Eventually, they would find that balance. A sort of normal. Something they weren't too familiar with.

He raised her hands over her head and eyed her torso, smoothing his free hand over her abdomen. The belly that he hoped would carry their babies. As he stroked his fingers lightly over her navel, he realized that their live together had finally began. He couldn't wait for it to continue. He couldn't wait to see what it had in store for them.

And as soon as she would let him, he planned on working hard to get her pregnant.

He kicked the rest of his clothes off and felt her eyes tracing over him, just like he had done to her. Fitz was proud of his body. He tried to stay fit and healthy, despite his love for junk food that she had always chastised him about. And to see the desire in her eyes repeatedly as she looked at him made it all pay off. He could feel the sting of where her nails had been all over him. All over his back and shoulder. A spot on his left hip. His ribs. And he was pretty sure she had dug into his ass too. He had scratches and she would have bruises. All bore in the name of the love that they had both fought so hard for.

Fitz's gaze followed her, his eyes full of such affection as she made her way down the hall slowly. Wobbling more than a little. That made him smirk and feel a little shame at the same time, wondering if he had pushed her too far and been a little too rough.

She peeked into his office and looked back at him. It still didn't feel real. They were really there. In Vermont. In their home, which she was about to explore for the first time.

He laughed. So it began. The spousal nagging. But somehow, he knew that coming from her, he could bear it. He would rather spend the rest of his life being fussed at by Olivia than being controlled by Mellie.

This would be their lives.

He was surprised that she didn't spend more time in the office he had designed for her, but he could tell by her gait that she was tired. He had worn her out, at least for the moment. They would explore more later. Or maybe she wanted to do it on her own. He could give her that. The privacy to see for her own two eyes the rooms he had built for her. The rooms that they would build their lives into.

Fitz stepped forward and took her hand, lacing their fingers. He led her further down the hallway and put his hand on the doorknob. His eyes found hers and he took a deep breath before turning the knob and opening the door to the master suite.

The wide, white French doors that led onto the balcony brought in the incredible light from the sunset, giving the room an orange glow.

As they stepped inside, he looked at her, waiting for a reaction.

 _ **/**_

 **T** he master suite was absolutely beautiful. Large but not too large, filled with all sorts of natural light. The floor was the same dark wood as the rest of the house but a large portion of it was covered by a plush Persian rug, the same color as the rug in the corridor. Looking left towards the walk in closet, Olivia could see the prismatic effect of stained glass through the open arched doorway, along with clothes for both of them inside already. A sitting area with two chairs and a chaise was in front of an empty bookshelf. On the table between the chairs was a crystal vase filled with fresh roses, the snow white a tribute to her go-to color for dresses, coats, hats...

Stepping forward, Olivia stopped at the foot of their bed (their very own bed!) and rested a careful hand on the mahogany foot board. The sleigh bed was massive, somewhere between a regular king and a California king, and obviously custom made. It was made up with a set of gray, black, and white bedding. A smile spread over her lips as she spotted a familiar black stitch pattern on the top quilt. It was just like the one in her apartment, only much bigger and it would only be shared with Fitz. The whole house, the whole parcel of land, the whole...just everything around them would just theirs. It was...it was a whole new world for them.

Walking around to her preferred side of the bed, Olivia climbed in and looked at Fitz. His smile was almost as luminous as the late afternoon sunlight blazing through the doors and slowly, she smiled back.

"I'm home, Fitz."

"You are."

"Come here."

 _ **/**_

 **F** itz leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he watched her take in the room. Every detail, every single part of the room, had been planned with care. All inspired by her, like so much of the rest of the house. The white, specifically. Olivia was a vision in white. She loved it. Her apartment was adorned mostly in the shade. He had thought it only appropriate to use white in the decor of the bedroom specifically. Surely, she would add her own touch to the house as they went, but he had tried to do everything with her in mind. The color, the style, the huge closet and the clothes that filled it on her side. The roses. The stained glass.

All for her.

Then, there was the bed.

It was large, and rightfully so in his mind. To accommodate them and their future little ones, who would surely end up there in a pile of cuddles now and then. And a dog. Fitz wanted a damned dog. Mellie despised dogs, so he had never been given permission to have one during their marriage, despite pleas from their children. In that house, with all that land, with Olivia, he would have a dog.

He watched her climb into the right side of the bed habitually and smiled so hard his cheeks began to ache.

They were home.

At her beckon, Fitz made his way across the room and crawled into his side of the bed. He flopped his head back onto the pillow dramatically, his eyes closing. He threw out his arm, opening up the space for her to snuggle into his side and he sighed contentedly when she did, pressing a kiss to her brow.

"Do you like it?" he asked quietly.

 _ **/**_

" **D** o you like it?"

She _ **loved**_ it.

There were no words for how much she loved it, all of it. The house, the bed, the man in the bed next to her...they were out on the Open. They had battles to fight but they were Out. No more lying, no more being the worst kept secret in DC, no more jealousy, no more interlopers, just...

Olivia nodded and pressed a kiss to the flesh where his heart pounded underneath, wrapping her arms around him. They rested on their sides in their bed (their very own bed!) and she was amused when Fitz's eyes eventually drifted shut in a well earned nap. A thousand 'Old Man Grant' quips rested on her tongue but she decided to save them for later. They had plenty of time for playful teasing, good natured spousal grumbling, and yes, more of their Conversation. They had made good progress so far but they still had much ground to cover, much to reassure each other about.

Olivia needed reassurance that he had forgiven the repeated mistakes from the past and that he would not give up on her when she made future, brand new mistakes. Fitz desperately needed to know that she would actually stay through all of the rough patches, both internally and externally.

External rough patches were inevitable. The Media scrutiny on her from her birth to the present day, the Impeachment hearings that Fitz would have to weather, counterattacks from Mellie, Cyrus, Rowan, and North would come, and sadly, Olivia couldn't count out Abby, Jake or her remaining Gladiators jumping into the fray, especially when she would announce OPA's permanent closing. They would be scared of the change, scared of losing a built in safety net in Abby's case and Huck and Quinn would be scared of being cast out to the wolves (which Olivia would never do...) and that fear could make them turn on her. They could make moves to sabotage her forward progress with Fitz and by herself so they could **"keep her"** and so she could **"fix them"**. Abby and probably Jake as well would likely disguise her sabotage as concern for Olivia's welfare but she would know better than to fully trust any of them until the Endgame came to full fruition.

The Endgame was still to Go Big **and** Go Home with Fitz. The Endgame was to be confident in herself again and to _**finally**_ allow herself to be happy, no matter what it took. She would need objective, professional help, as well as help from Fitz and from those she could trust once they revealed their true loyalties. Fitz revealing her as his "mistress" and when she eventually made her own statements of love and of her intent to stand by his side would force choices from everyone around them and true colors would be shown.

 **Mellie was an enemy to destroy.** No, Mellie was an enemy who she and Fitz would guide into self destructing. It wouldn't be too difficult. Mellie's playbook read like a badly written children's book of clichés and now that Olivia staunchly refused to ghostwrite moves for her, she'd fall apart like stale bread.

Olivia was looking forward to witnessing that. Mellie had gotten away with far too much for too long. Olivia had _**let**_ her get away with far too much for too long. It was time for the Antebellum Baby Duck to pay the piper with interest. She would die flaming a social and political death, bold as brass and unable to be hidden.

 **Rowan needed to literally die.** He wouldn't be in prison forever and once he was loose, he'd be out for blood soaked payback. He lacked the resources of his B613 Collective (thanks to his own hubris...) but he hadn't survived as Command for so long by being stupid and impatient. The only thing that would stop the old man for good was death and Olivia didn't feel bad about it. Her father was long gone, lost to the darkness and the high of absolute, illicitly gained power. He was a monster, a rabid beast in human skin, and she would personally put him down if that was what it took to protect herself and those who loved her.

Olivia was now very good with a gun and unlike the last time she pointed one at the old man's face, it would be ready.

 **She would be ready.**

 **Like Mellie, Elizabeth North would sabotage herself.** The blonde was a brilliant woman but she greatly overestimated her abilities and she had a nasty tendency to alienate those she really shouldn't. She would play all sides to keep herself relevant and Olivia would allow her to before letting her hang herself from her own noose. Cyrus would probably aid in the sabotaging in an effort to get his job back and that would be allowed, with very firm strings attached. No, not strings. Chains and a shock collar would be the way to go. Perhaps, Thorngate could make a comeback...

Olivia already had written off **Cyrus** as a true ally and even when he was eventually allowed back into 1600 Penn, into their lives, the trust and friendship she felt with the old bastard was dead and gone. **He was now a useful enemy to keep close and at the first sign of new betrayal, she'd gut him with Fitz's full blessings.** That is, if she didn't have to in the coming days, weeks, months that #OlitzRevealed would rip through DC. **His eventual death would be like Mellie's, a social and political death.** How fast it would come would be up to the old man's actions. He had overplayed his hand once. Would he do it again?

Most likely...

 _ **/**_

 **H** e grinned boyishly when she nodded. She liked it. It was a success. The house, the plan, and of course the sex, but that was usually a given. That was an area from which he had never received complaints. At least not from her, and that's all that mattered. His body wasn't made to please anyone else.

Just Olivia.

It felt _**incredible**_ to have her in his arms again. Fitz would never grow tired of that feeling. The completeness of holding her, the one he loved. He felt like he had been waiting a lifetime to have her like that. To have the doors of possibility blown off their hinges for them. The life they had talked about in low voices on the phone late at night was finally happening for them. It had already started, the moment they walked in the door that afternoon. The life Fitz had been mentally building for them for years. Neutral colored rooms with just a dash of color to brighten them. Rooms that they were surely 'christen' each of with their passion for one another. He had dreamed so long of the little things in life that he wanted to have with her, and with no one else.

Just like he was doing as he napped…

 _ **She was so beautiful**_ _, was all he could think as he looked at her. Stared at her, really, but he was allowed to do that. She was his. He'd stare at her if he wanted. Especially at the gorgeous swell of her stomach where her body had molded around their ever-growing child inside of her. Her movements were methodical as she prepared a miniature plate for their toddler, a little boy. He had a head of brown curls, the smoothest looking honey colored skin, and Olivia's bottomless dark brown eyes. Fitz smiled as he watched her begin to feed their son. Well, as she tried. The kid was playful and refusing to cooperate fully._

 _"C'mon, sweetie. Eat for Mommy," she coaxed, her voice sugary, but genuine. Fitz could see that she was tired and sense the frustration starting to brew._

 _The little one giggled and Fitz started laughing, the sound absolutely contagious. The room filled with the tiny, higher pitched chortles and Fitz's deep baritone ones, the sounds blending together in a pleasant harmony, eventually joined by Olivia's own chuckles. He walked over to where they were and pulled up a dining room chair, gently taking the small spoon from her._

 _"Here, I've got it. Go on and get yourself something," he told her, pressing a long kiss to her lips and rubbing his hand habitually over her stomach in a loving gesture._

 _Fitz took a seat and grinned over at their child, who mirrored the expression, tucking his chin into his shoulder mischievously._

 _"Okay, squirt. You're gonna eat for Daddy, right?"_

 _Fitz quirked a brow as he questioned the boy, who shook his head, the grin still plastered across his mouth. Oh, children._

 _He made a show of tasting the food and gave an exaggerated reaction, showing him that the food was definitely worth eating. That was all it took for the child to reach for the spoon, clearly wanting to sample the fare for himself. Fitz was chuckling again as he successfully spooned the food into the baby-bird-like mouth that waited for it._

 _Love and happiness filled him to the brim…_

He woke calmly, barely stirring and opening his eyes slowly. He stared at the ceiling, having shifted over onto his back in his slumber. That's when he felt it. The tension coming off of Olivia in waves. He could almost see, smell, and touch Olivia's thoughts. He could almost hear them, not the words individually, but the tense clutter of thought. It practically made a sound, and he knew there would be no getting back to sleep with that going on. No matter how tired his body was.

" _Tell your thoughts to whisper. I'm sleeping._ ," he murmured, his voice lowered even further from sleep, and gravelly.

 _ **/**_

 **O** livia chuckled at the husky scold and raised herself on her forearms to look at his face.

He still looked so peaceful, a peace that had very little to do with his nap but much to do with her, them, himself. No more hiding, no more lying, no more running, no more hurting...well, there would be hurting sometimes but nowhere near as catastrophic as the hurting before. She'd make sure of it and when she faltered, he'd pull them through.

"I'm sorry. I just...I'm not used to it yet. I'm not used to feeling happy and even though we're on the same page, a lot of people aren't going to be. People that say that they care about us, want the best for us are going to try and break us apart again. I don't want that to happen."

"It won't. We're in it together, Olivia. You won't have to face all of it alone. I won't let you."

She knew that. God, she _**knew**_ that but it was still hard to accept it. The fact that it was still hard to accept irked her to no end. Why was it that she was so willing to accept the bad and mediocre things but not the good? How had she become that skewed in her thinking and more importantly, what could she do to fix it? _**Could**_ she fix it? It wasn't too late to...later. She would address it later. It was time to focus on the now and the now was that she was in her home, with her man, in their bed.

"Nobody _**lets**_ me do anything, mister." she sniffed with mock aplomb, making him smile and place them chest to chest.

She knew that he knew that her reply was made in order to keep things light and she appreciated him letting her. There would be more time for them to continue their Conversation later.

"Well, there's a first time for everything."

Cupping his cheek, Olivia initiated their latest round of kissing and she was gratified to feel his arousal brush against her thigh. Moving her hand downwards, she grabbed ahold of him and Fitz broke the kiss with a low hiss. Pressing her free hand against his side, Olivia began to trail kisses and nips downward, intent on one thing.  
 **  
** **She wanted him in her mouth.**

 _ **/**_

 **S** he was scared. He could sense it in the air, hear it in her words. This was new territory for them. The honesty. The being out in the open. It didn't change their love for each other though. It would actually make them stronger, he knew. It was just another battle that they had to fight through together. Together. He couldn't quite get over it either. That they were done sneaking around. That they were done living off of stolen moments and late night phone calls.

They were together.

And everyone knew it.

She was so strong-willed. He loved that about her, but he was looking forward to watching her let those outer layers fall. He knew what was beneath them. The core of her. The softness of her being. The part of her that the public never got to see. But she had to grow to be comfortable enough to let down her defenses, at least with him on a more regular basis. It was the beginning of their forever. He would fight with her and for her. Until his last breath. But she had to let him. He hoped she would.

He pulled her to him when she got all into her feminist colors, their chests pressing together. She didn't want to discuss it right then, and he respected that. Later. They had all the time in the world to discuss everything that they needed to. His reply was meant to bridge to gap. To let her know that he was there to push her, but that he wouldn't do so without her willingness.

 **They were a team.**

That word, team. Mellie had used it again and again to describe their marriage, but it wouldn't be like that. He and Olivia were lovers. Best friends. Soulmates, even. Devoted to one another and their future. Their present and their needs too. A true team.

The team to beat.

Fitz hummed into her kiss and rolled over onto his back again, carrying her with him. Her hand smoothed down his body and he was taken by surprise when she wrapped it around his length. She began kissing down his torso and he watched, mesmerized.

This wasn't something that they did frequently. Sure, they had sex frequently, but the whole blowjob idea had always felt Monica Lewinsky to Fitz. He hadn't wanted to reduce her to that and had never even hinted at wanting her to pleasure him that way. It seemed like a 'service' instead of an act of love, which was not at all what they were about. He had avoided it mostly to spare any feelings of that sort that she might develop as a result. She had done it a few times though. Once, late one night on the trail when he had managed to sneak into her room after having a few drinks with Cyrus.  
Again when he had showed her the house the first time, on the floor in the living room.

And right then, she looked up to meet his gaze as she leveled with the impressive length of his cock.

He watched with baited breath.

 _ **/**_

 **F** itz rarely allowed her to go down on him.

It had remained unsaid but Olivia knew why. The lingering specters of Jefferson and Hemmings, not to mention Clinton and Lewinsky, had somewhat tainted the act in his mind. Then, there was the whole idea of her 'servicing' him, as the prim and proper people called it but to Olivia, it wasn't debasing. It was just another way to be intimate with him. It was also about reciprocity. After all, Fitz was always willing and eager to please her with his mouth, his wickedly talented tongue...

She wanted him in her mouth. She could count on less than one hand the times where he had allowed her to (that one night on the Trail, drafting his first State of the Union at Camp David, their reunion sex after they had run out the Clock together, their first time on the living room floor downstairs...) and she wanted it. She wanted it in their new Era. She wanted to christen their bed (their very own bed in their very own bedroom!) and this was the perfect way to begin.

Looking up into his eyes, Olivia took the head of him into her mouth and moaned at his taste, along with the lingering taste of herself on him. Fitz shuddered as she slowly but surely engulfed him between her lips, twining her tongue over him like ivy. His right hand clenched in the bedding and his left hand brushed her hair out of the way so he could get a proper view of her. Olivia relaxed her throat and moaned around him, delighted at the way his eyes rolled back at the sensation, the way he was moaning for her, begging for her...

 _"...so good, Livvie...don't stop_ _ **...please don't stop**_ _..."_

Not until she was satisfied, not until he unraveled for her like she always did for him. She wanted him in her mouth, all of him in her mouth, and she would get what she wanted.

Olivia bobbed her head slowly, back and forth, keeping her tongue in motion as she did so. When it brushed against the hilt of him, he moaned. When it flicked over the hypersensitive ridge underneath the head of him, he groaned. When it traced his glans, his hips coiled and snapped against her, careful not to gag her but definitely letting her know that he liked it, loved it, wanted more of it. Her left hand rested on his thigh and she used her right to tend to the sac underneath his shaft, massaging gently but firmly, feeling the churning of his held back release. Switching, her fingers went to his shaft and she suckled at him, pleased by the way he was starting to writhe. Before he could climax, she pulled away and used both of her hands to stroke him languidly, him thrusting shamelessly into her loving grasp.

His cheeks were flushed carmine and his eyes were sharply focused on her, moving between her face and hands, the sway of her breasts as she quickened her pace. She was going to drive him crazy. She was going to spin him out and send him soaring.

A low, almost pained growl rumbled in his chest as she brought her hands to where his legs and torso met and pressed down as hard as she could. Her mouth hovered over him and she licked at him delicately, lapping up his essence. Then, she abruptly engulfed him to the hilt and nearly came herself at his wordless shout of pleasure. Yes. Yes, yes, yes...

" _Livvie...baby, you..._ _ **come up here**_ _..._ "

The negative grunt was accented by her teeth scraping against him and she batted his hand away from her hair, tightly entwining her fingers with his. He held on with white knuckled force and she rested her left hand on top of his as his control snapped. He fucked her mouth with long strokes, still mindful not to make her gag, make her hurt...

" _ **Livvie...Livvie...Livvie**_ _...oh,_ _ **god**_ _, Livvie..._ "

She pulled away just enough to whisper the command that the both of them couldn't help but obey from the other.

" _Come for me_."

 _ **/**_

 **H** e was convinced. She was going to kill him.

Fitz had never been with someone who had actually wanted to go down on him. Mellie only offered it when she wanted to butter him up, or if she knew he could use the release but she 'didn't feel like' sex. But still, she never seemed to actually enjoy it. Not the way Olivia did, anyway. She was truly enjoying it, and he loved that. It made it that much better for him. She didn't care about the taboo of it that had been in the back of his mind from the very start of their relationship. They didn't even have to discuss it. He just knew.

She didn't care.

She didn't want it to hinder their intimacy.

Fitz wasn't sure that anything could truly hinder them like that. Not anymore.

She was a sight to behold as she worked him over. Sexy in a way that he had forgotten. Dominant looked good on her, he had to admit. He saw it on her professionally. The formidable Olivia Pope, always ready to step in and take control. To handle. To fix. But the way she was commanding his body was a whole different playing field.

Smooth.

Calculated.

Assertive.

He bit his lower lip as he watched her. Her head bobbing rhythmically over him. His cock disappearing over and over into her hot, wet mouth. He brushed her hair aside, to get it out of her way and to allow him a better view of her. It was too striking of a sight to squander it. He was imprinting it to memory. He never wanted to forget it.

It was too good. He felt like he was going to combust. She was touching and teasing him in all of the right ways.

She pulled back for a moment, and he watched her intently. Her hands worked him and he bucked up against the motion, his lips parted as he began to pant. She was up to something. He could sense it. What was she about to-

Fitz cried out as she took him in. _**All**_ of him. Something no one else had ever been able to do. He didn't boast. He didn't strut around. But Fitz knew that he was well-endowed. It was a fact. He wanted her. He was so close, and he wanted to be inside of her when it ended. But she denied him. She wasn't done pleasing him yet. He squeezed her hands and gently thrust up, countering her rhythm carefully. He murmured her name over and over, praising her efforts as the muscles in his abdomen clenched and quivered, his release nearing.

Then she gave him permission to let go. He nodded in acknowledgement. She bobbed over him a few more times and he groaned deeply, his seed spilling into her throat.

" _ **Ahhhh, fuck...Livvie**_..."

 _ **/**_

 **O** livia took her time in accepting his climax, making sure to relish every part of it because she knew that it would be a while before Fitz would let her at him again. She'd probably have to ambush him a few times until the mental hang up was gone and even after that, she'd keep doing it. Ambushes were fun. There had always been a playfulness between her and Fitz, verbally and physically. They'd banter back and forth. They'd tag team side eye and silent shade people. He'd let her tackle him sometimes and she still remembered fending off his fingers, fingers that knew every ticklish place on her body...

Slowly, she withdrew her mouth from his flaccid cock and looked up, watching as his cerulean slate eyes slowly opened again. His face was the picture of bliss and he looked at her with a staggering amount of tenderness as he caught his breath. Fitz raised his head and before he could speak, Olivia got a good grip of his cock and his head fell back with a heavy thud, making her giggle quietly as he groaned submissively. She couldn't help it. Here she was, 5'4 and 115 pounds (give or take a glass of wine), and she was able to subdue a 6'2, 210 pound Alpha WASP male with just a simple touch. Simple touches, actually.

This time, she maintained a steady and slow pace on his shaft, rubbing and squeezing him in all the ways he loved. Her free fingers traced over the defined planes and grooves of his abdomen, remembering and relearning. His left hand released its death grip on the sheet and went to one of her bent knees, stroking up to her thigh and spreading his fingers over the flesh, nearly engulfing it. Fitz sat up slowly and his free hand joined her stroking fingers, coaxing him back to full arousal. Once that was accomplished, she batted his hand away and put both of hers on his shoulders, using them as leverage to straddle him.

The head of him brushed against her opening and she took a fistful of his thick curls as she sank down onto him, forcing him to maintain eye contact. Fitz's left hand went to the flare of her hip and he lay back, rolling his hips upward to get her started. Pressing her breasts against his chest, Olivia took over and began to ride him, moaning at the feel of him. God, he felt so good inside of her, so _**right**_ inside of her...

 _ **/**_

 **F** itz rested there for a moment with his eyes closed, his chest heaving. What the fuck was _**that**_? He had never seen her quite like that before. It wasn't fair that she could do that. That she had the ability to blow him, and his mind, that way. There was no hiding just how breathtaking it was. Now he knew how she felt, because he knew his mouth had a power over her too. And he used it to his advantage, teasing her. That night on the phone in the Oval when he was a little drunk, he told her what he wanted to do to her. With his mouth. She now had that power over him. Her skills just added to his already present state of 'whipped.'

And he loved it.

But even more, she was showing him that this was part of who they were now. They were a couple fully. They weren't hiding anymore. To America, they might still be labeled a 'scandal' but it didn't define them like it used to. It would blow over, eventually. The American public would see the depth of what they had and he hoped some would then grow to accept it. And if they didn't, Fitz needed to accept it. That this was their relationship, giving and accepting what the other had to offer.

 **Everything.**

He felt her pull off of him and he opened his eyes, peering down at her. He was a man in love. With an incredible woman. There was no denying it, not to himself or to anyone. Not anymore. Fitz offered her the tiniest breathless grin. He lifted his head off of the pillow and opened his mouth to praise her, but before he could get the words out, she had wrapped her hand around him again and he let his head drop back heavily. He wasn't sure if he could do that. If his body would handle it and be up for the challenge. Fitz was no spring chicken. In his college days, he could go all night, but now? He was flattered that her hunger for him was that strong, but…

"Livvie, I don't know if I can—"

" _Shhh, relax_ …"

He did as he was told, propping up and watching her as she stroked and tugged at him patiently. She was sure, confident that she could get him ready again. Clearly, she had more faith than he did, but if anyone could make him, and his body, defy the odds, it was Olivia. He let his hands trace over the curves of her leg to distract him from the task at hand. Her skin was impossibly smooth and he would never tire of touching it. After a few minutes, her thumb started rubbing over the head of him, just so, and he felt himself begin to twitch and grow.

" _ **You're gonna kill me**_ …" he told her, the words wrapped in a groan. " _ **You're gonna fuck me to death.**_ _"_ _  
_  
He reached down to help her, his fist circling the lower part of his shaft. His eyes took in her body, which fueled him back to full strength. The slight sway of her breasts as she moved her hands made his mouth water. Before he knew it, he must have met her satisfaction, because she was swatting his hand away and mounting him.

She held his head still and he could do nothing but look at her face as she took him inside of her. He gasped, the feel of her heat enveloping him was always mesmerizing. She wanted control so he let her have it. Fitz laid back, propped up slightly by the pillows, and held her hips, letting her set the pace. As she began to move, he caressed his hands all over her body, reveling in her moans as he always did. He leaned his head up a fraction and with a hand on her back he pressed her forward to meet his mouth, his lips and tongue slowly teasing her nipples.

 _ **/**_

 **O** livia shuddered at the contact and arched her back for more, purring when he eagerly obliged her. To reward him, she started circling her hips and slowly flexing her walls, relishing the way he groaned for her. Fitz began thrusting up into her with long deep strokes and she whimpered as he put her on her back in their bed, in their very own house...

 _"Oh, god..."_

Fitz continued his rhythm inside of her and she held onto him tightly with her limbs, accepting the kisses he rained over her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, everywhere he could reach. She felt euphoric, warm and safe underneath him. He was making love not just to her body but to her soul, her heart, her mind. He always had and that frightened her. She was still frightened but she wouldn't run away anymore. Every time she ran away, it hurt them both so much, so very much and she just didn't want to do that, anymore. All she wanted, all she needed was...

 _ **"Fitz!"**_

 _ **/**_

 **H** e was surprised that she was able to ride him at all, given the harsh way he had taken her that afternoon in the hallway. The bruises on her neck and chest reminded him as he kissed over her skin. The way her hips rotated in teasing circles got him though. It was too much. Too much and not enough, all at once.

He carefully rolled her over and took control. His thrusts were long and slow. Unhurried. Sensual. Drawing out their pleasure. But the intensity of it wouldn't let it last long, he knew. The way she was clinging to him gave her away. His lips pressed everywhere. Her underside of her chin as she arched, her clavicle, her bicep, back to her jaw. When she wasn't rushing to get him inside of her, he was going to kiss her like that all over, worshipping her body. Once they had worked through everything that was hiding behind their lust for each other. He'd spend a whole day, making slow love to her.

His grin was soft as he watched, and heard, her react to him. He watched her face. Watched the pleasure build in her. Felt it. His thrusts grew faster, determined. She was close and he knew it.

" _ **Yes**_ _...come for me, baby_..." he murmured, encouraging her.

His own peak was building. So much of his pleasure stemmed from hers. So often, he mirrored her. His hips rolled against her, firmer, and he groaned for her. Groaned louder as she purred his name and sank her teeth into the flesh of his neck. He kissed her fully, and they swallowed the sounds of the other as they found bliss together, their bodies trembling as the waves washed over them.

* * *

 **M** oving the bottle away from her lips, Olivia couldn't help but smile to herself as she sat on the couch.

It was a little bit past 2AM, she was wearing nothing but Fitz's discarded white dress shirt, and she was drinking chocolate milk straight out of the half gallon. Her hair looked like it had been in a windstorm, her legs still wobbled when she walked, her lips still stung a little from heated kisses and she was...she was home. She was home and safe and sated by the love of her life, the love of her life who was completely dead to the world upstairs.

There was no fear. There were no hunger pangs. There were no horrible smells and tepid water. There were no bricked over windows or red doors leading to nowhere good. There were no buyers salivating over her hidden secrets and her body. She was home with Fitz. Nobody could get to her. She was in Vermont, in her clean and spacious home, free to roam about anywhere she chose to. Fitz had stirred when she got out of bed but she had soothed him with soft kisses and whispered assurances that she wouldn't be far away. She just wanted a snack and to do some exploring of their home, their very own home.

Would she ever lose the awe she felt over having a real life with him? She hoped not...

Glancing to the muted TV, she saw that the Press Conference and she and Fitz's South Lawn walk was still the top story on the top 4 major news networks. The ticker on the bottom was centered around them, too. Mellie still hadn't made a statement. OPA was still surrounded by reporters and Secret Service agents. #OlitzRevealed was the top trend in America and 15 other countries...and the news that Cyrus Beene had been dismissed as White House Chief of Staff had been "accidentally" leaked.

The same feeling of malicious prideful glee she felt when she threw Fitz's wedding ring across the Residence, when she just knew that a dismayed Mellie could see her entering Marine One in the high noon sun, returned and it manifested in a brilliant grin. It was times like these that she had no choice to accept Maya's caustic declaration that she and Rowan were cut from the same cloth. Like Rowan, Olivia could certainly enjoy another person's pain, especially when she felt like they deserved it. Unlike Rowan, though, she still had a working albeit battered conscience and her conscience kept her sadistic ways in check 9 times out of 10.

This was not one of those times. This was a time that she was fiddling while Rome burned and raising her glass in appreciation of the view. Well, her half gallon of milk, in this case. Fitz had thrown the allied pair out of the White House they so desperately ached to be in. Fitz had filed for a long overdue divorce and took away a big chunk of Mellie's power over him by revealing the biggest secret he had (that she knew of). Fitz had called Cyrus out on his lane leaving, puppeteering ways and fired him on the spot. In their eyes, Armageddon had come to pass and nothing would ever be right, be the same again.

Mellie and Cyrus had to be in agony. It wasn't because they loved or even cared about Fitz. It certainly wasn't because they cared about her, contrary to what they'd eventually say. No, they were in agony because they were on the outside looking in again and this time, it was different. They knew that they had gravely miscalculated. They knew that they had overplayed their hands in their typical ways and they knew that their salvation, their ace in the hole was gone.

The key to them recovering, to things returning to their acceptable idea of "normal" was Olivia and that key was lost to them.

In the past, they could play on her guilt, her pride, her fears to make her into their advocate. In the past, Olivia would console and come up with a new plan. In the past, Olivia would stand between them and Fitz, them and the World protecting them from the karma they all knew they deserved in the name of the Greater Good, the almighty Grant Administration.

Now, things were different. Olivia had freed herself from their manipulative ways and there was no going back ever. They could yell. They could scream. They could cry. They could threaten and try to guilt but it wouldn't work. Not now, not ever again. Mellie and Cyrus were done, well done, and that made Olivia so happy. So very, very happy...

Karma was a bitch.

The phone she had turned back on lit up and began to buzz almost angrily on the coffee table.

Speak of the Devil, think of the Devil, and he'll come flying screaming out of your nose.

Setting down her drink, she picked up her phone and with a last look around at her future, at the future that she and her slumbering love would share, she pressed the accept button and said the first word that would initiate the first round of her defending it to the death...

"What?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** **HandsUp and I aren't going give up. We won't give The Creator the satisfaction of giving up on Liv, Fitz, and Olitz like she apparently wants people to. If we can't get the Olivia Pope, the Fitzgerald Grant III, and the Olitz we want and deserve to see on the television without melodrama and without all sorts of hell being raised first, hell that doesn't even guarantee a happy ending then, we'll Handle it. Unlike The Creator and her enablers, we understand how to do right by who needs to be done right by and how to dispense the well earned bad karma to those who need it.**

 **This is only Round 1. Cyrus and Mellie and later Rowan are far too stubborn and stupid to just go away. However, in this story, they will eventually go away and stay away. Our heroes will be happy and strong, not just together but solo. Sit back and enjoy the latest chapter from us and more will be up as soon as we can.**

 **Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

 **T** here was a shocked pause on the other end of the line, as if the caller hadn't expected to get through.

"What, Cyrus? What do you want?"

" _...what...what do I_ _ **want**_ _? She's asking me what I want..._ "

"You've got 10 seconds to start talking or _**she's**_ going to hang up on you and not pick up again. 9, 8, 7, 6, 5..."

" _ **He fired me**_ _...after everything I did for him, everything I sacrificed,_ _ **he fired me**_ _. He fired me, kicked his wife out, and ran off with..._ "

"... **his whore.** That's what you were going to say, isn't it? Ungrateful whiny bitch baby Fitzgerald oh so cruelly made long suffering you and precious Mellie face the consequences of your actions and ran off with his uppity black whore who ruined everything because they had the audacity to love each other when the clothes were put back on. I have two questions for you, Cyrus. You don't have to answer them immediately but I'd like the answers eventually. First question: why is it that when things are on the verge of disaster, I'm the only person who saves everything, I'm the needed great love of his life but as soon as things get back to normal, I'm nothing but the Help and the Hemmings Reboot Whore that you can look down your nose on and treat like garbage? Second question: Who are you to sit there and judge me when you have done and will continue to do _**far**_ worse things than I could ever do? Almost all of the crises that the Grant Administration as a whole has gone through can be traced back to something you were a part of. Don't deny that because _**I**_ am the one who had to clean up the mess! _**I'm**_ the one who had to make it go away and for _**what**_?! Tell me what, Cyrus."

" _Liv_..."

" **No.** **Do not Liv me. I am not your Liv, anymore. We are not friends, anymore. We are not allies, anymore.** You can see me as an enemy if that makes it easier for you. I don't see you as an enemy. I just see you as a manipulative pain in the ass that needs to go away and never come back. I should've let you run off to Europe when I had the chance but that's just yet another regret I'll have to learn to live with. Seriously, why the hell are you calling me right now? What do you expect me to do for you? **He fired you and you deserved it.** **End of story** and he's got bigger fish to fry right now. He's got _**Us**_ to deal with. Even if I _**wanted**_ to undo what's been done, I couldn't. I can't turn back the hands of time, Cyrus. I can't make him give you your job back nor do I want to at the moment and I can't make him lie about our relationship again. He can't lie. I can't lie. There's no room for lies, anymore. He went irreversibly public with us and that's exactly what I wanted him to do. I saw his speech before he gave it. "

 _"_ _ **You saw it and you let him give it anyway?!**_ _"_

"Of course. He always has me look over his speeches before he gives them. Why would this time be different?"

 _ **"You know why!"**_

"Pretend I don't. Talk to me like I'm stupid again. It's your favorite past time. Go ahead and do it. _**Take it away**_..."

"... _you...you let him give that speech. You let him go up there and tell the whole damned world that he loves you, wants you,_ _ **can't breathe**_ _without you. Do you_ _ **really**_ _think that it's going to be easy? Do you_ _ **really**_ _think that the People, that his Party will accept you in his life? Even if he's impeached and you two run off to the countryside, he'll be remembered as the Man who had it all and threw it away because of his hormones. And_ _ **you'll**_ _be remembered as nothing more than a homewrecker, a woman who slept her way to the top, true or not._ "

"And I bet you think it's true, don't you? After all, it would explain _**so**_ much about me. Never mind that I have a functioning brain that I'm not afraid to use. No, it's all about whose rich and powerful cock I can get down my throat next, isn't it? The Great Olivia Pope, Crisis Manager Extraordinaire is nothing but a pretty party girl who used her body and manipulative mind to get whatever or whoever she wants, damn the consequences. You and Mellie are already putting together that narrative, aren't you? You're going to drag me through the mud in the hopes that I'll feel so ashamed, so guilty and dirty that I'll run away from Fitz again so you two can get the lives you feel entitled to back. I let you both do it before and neither of you are creative enough on your own to come up with new material. _**That's**_ why you needed me. _**That's**_ why you're on my phone right now. You want me to make it go away again, to make it all better for you, and all I have to do in exchange is break the man I love's heart again and ruin my own happiness again, right? _**Wrong**_. It's not happening this time, Cyrus. **You are on your own. I'm done with you, I'm done with Mellie, and I'm done being your Bitch, your Whipping Girl. Get yourself another sucker, Beene. I'm through.** "

It didn't hurt.

Even with her resolve to cut her long time "friend", mentor, and ally out of her life, out of their lives for at least the next 6 months, Olivia had expected it to hurt. For the longest time, she had seen Cyrus as somewhat of a father figure, far better than the psychotic bastard of a biological father she had, anyway. She had stood up for him, protected him, and accomplished great things with him, pre-Fitz and post-Fitz. Cyrus had become like family to her and the fact that letting him go, that kicking him out didn't hurt made her feel a twinge of sadness.

It also made her feel angry that she hadn't done it sooner. If she had, things between her and Fitz would be in a far better place than they currently were. Cyrus wouldn't have been able to play them against each other as effectively if she had banished him from their inner Circle. The old bastard would've returned to his Lane and stayed in it, if she had just put her foot down or allowed Fitz to do so. Rowan claimed to be a master of manipulation and he was but he had nothing on Cyrus Beene. Rowan could move people around like chess pieces and they wouldn't know until it was too late. Cyrus would do the same but make a person think that it was their best option for survival. All they had to do was let Cyrus Beene guide them and everything would come up roses. He was like a termite infestation. He would come in and take whatever useful things before leaving his host behind with little to no strength left.

" _Olivia, think about what you're saying...you and Fitz are going to need me and..._ "

"...it still won't be like it was. This Band is not getting back together until its members do some re-tuning, namely you. You need to learn how to treat those who actually have the power you want with the respect they deserve and you need to learn what true loyalty is. Until you do both to my satisfaction, I will do everything in my power, clothed or otherwise, to keep you far the hell away from me, from 1600 Penn, and _**especially**_ from Fitz. He's been hurt enough and a lot of that hurt is from me and I'm going to Fix it. I'm going to make myself better and I'm going to let him love me just he's always wanted to. That can't happen if you're around. That can't happen if people like you are around. You're on a sinking ship, Cyrus. Mellie is a sinking ship, as is Rowan. If you don't want to go down with them, I suggest you get off of my phone and do some serious soul searching. Pick a side and act in accordance. Goodbye."

 _ **/**_

The pool's water was clean and warm, feeling good on her bare skin.

After hanging up on Cyrus, she had curled up on the couch to doze. Olivia had considered going back upstairs to bed but with the way her mind was buzzing, she knew that she'd wake Fitz up and she didn't want to do that yet. He deserved to sleep peacefully and she needed the distance between them to really process how she was feeling. She felt **empowered**. She had stuck up for herself against one of the biggest bullies in her life and had gotten the last word. She felt **sad**. Just because a person had to do something didn't mean it wasn't painful. She felt **resolved**. Shutting down Cyrus was necessary and she knew that he knew that she meant what she said. It was going to be a new Era and if the old man wouldn't play ball, then he'd be benched for good. Intellectually, Cyrus knew that but he had a tendency to think with his ego before his brain when he felt wronged or threatened.

He felt wronged by Fitz and threatened by her so that made him a Wild Card, a ticking time bomb. He most definitely wanted his job back. The Chief of Staff position was the only thing he really loved, except for maybe his daughter Ella and while he was alive, James Novak. Cyrus' endgame at the moment was to get his job back but would the desire for his job outweigh his desire for revenge? Honestly, she was hoping that it wouldn't so she could take him down for good. Part of it was eliminating a threat but another part, a part she wasn't very proud of, just wanted revenge. She wanted Cyrus to hurt like he had helped hurt her and Fitz. She wanted him to know the misery that she and Fitz had suffered because of his puppeteering aiding and abetting her cowardice.

Coming to the other side of the pool, Olivia surfaced and took another look around. Just past the staircase and to the right was an arched doorway with a stone spiral staircase descending downwards. Curious and still too wired to sleep, Olivia had followed them and heard the familiar sounds of an indoor swimming pool. Opening the left mahogany double door, Olivia had stepped through. The first thing she saw was the bank of large windows giving view of the trees surrounding the main house and the thousands of stars in the clear onyx sky. The pool itself was Olympic sized and rectangular, designed to look as if were in a garden. There were potted plants everywhere and along with white and blue loungers, there were flat rocks that would serve as seating or as a place to put a towel, along with clothing.

Olivia rested her head on her forearm and could hear the birds chirping outside, getting ready to greet the coming dawn. Had it really been only 2 days since it all happened? This time last week, she was running around undecided about her future. She was trying to take down B613 and still using Jake and Russell as safe surrogates for the man she really wanted but couldn't have because of her own actions. Now, B613 had been dealt a brutal blow, Jake and Russell were gone (the latter most likely killed in the "Housecleaning"...) Rowan was rotting in prison for the time being, and she was with Fitz again. Not only was she with him again, everyone finally knew the truth about them. He had claimed her and then, they had walked hand in hand, side by side in broad daylight just like they had always wanted to.

She was no longer his Achilles heel, his dirty little secret to be used against him. Breaking their run/chase pattern for the first time since Verna's funeral, she had come to him, reached out for him, and Fitz had embraced her fiercely, much to her relieved delight. She had chosen him and he had chosen her back. They were in good place again and taking on the obstacles one at a time together. Her world still in shambles overall but now, she had a solid life plan again. She had goals to reach and support in her corner.

She was happy, so very happy, but she still felt unworthy of her happiness.

She would have to work on that.

Exiting the pool, Olivia walked through another open archway and entered a shower area. Sliding open the glass door, she stepped into the stall and turned on the water. After rinsing the chlorine away, she picked up the bottle of Bvlgari green shower gel. Although the Burt's Bees products she preferred were there (and likely in the master suite, too), Olivia wanted to smell like her man. Good scents had a way of keeping her grounded nowadays and she would need all the stability she could get in the coming weeks, months, years. Done with her shower, she cut the water and reached for plush snow white robe that hung on a hook next to a black one. With a shake of her head, she pulled on the black one and snickered to herself at how it engulfed her. All she needed was a headpiece and a staff and she'd look like a much shorter version of Maleficent.

Running a towel through her hair, Olivia carefully ascended the stairs back to the main level and checked the time. 5:19AM and the sky was now midnight blue at the horizon. Sunrise would be soon and she wanted to see it. Walking to the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator and got the rest of her chocolate milk. Usually, she would go for wine (and there was a bottle of Du Bellay on the counter next to a decanter of Glenlivet scotch) but she wanted to be completely sober for most of her time here. It would force her out of her comfort zone. Typically, she had to have at least one glass of wine before she felt comfortable enough to talk about emotional things but it would be worth it. It would be another sign to Fitz that she was serious about what they were doing.

 _ **/**_

He was sprawled out on his stomach but his head was turned towards the balcony and her. Lowering herself down to a squatting position (and hissing at the slight thigh pain the motion caused), Olivia rested her fingertips gently on his neck. Fitz's pulse was strong and even and he was in deep REM sleep. Much to her delight, there was a small smile on his face as he slept and she wondered what he was dreaming about. Or rather, she wondered what they were doing in his dreams. Were they making love? Were they exploring the grounds together? Were they dancing at a State Dinner? Were they playing with their kids?

She'd ask him later. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his temple and brushed the errant curl (the one she had privately dubbed his Superman curl) away from his brow before slowly straightening up. She was hurting a little but it was a hurt she relished. She was back where she had always belonged and she was there to stay, whether anyone liked it or not...

...especially the person whose name that was now on her rapidly vibrating phone's caller ID. Since she was still getting swamped with notifications and she had nowhere pressing to be, she had put it on vibrate before coming back upstairs. After Fitz was awake, she'd turn the volume back up.

Taking the phone out and looking at it, Olivia let herself sigh deeply before exiting the master suite. She wouldn't get a proper view of the sunrise there and she wanted to put some distance between her still slumbering love because Olivia was certain that she wouldn't be able to keep her voice down. Coming to her home office, she nodded once and sat down on the couch. Like the rest of the furniture, it was plush but firm. Drawing up her legs, she waited.

As soon as the phone began to buzz again, she pushed the 'accept' button and like with Cyrus, started the confrontation with one word.

"What?"

" _Well, look who's_ _ **finally**_ _come up for air...is my husband's cock still inside you?_ "

" **Goodbye, Mellie**."

" _Wait, wait...damn it. I didn't mean to say that..._ "

"Yes, you did."

"... _all right, so I_ _ **did**_ _...can you blame me?_ "

" **Yes.** Need I remind you that you didn't have a problem with anything your husband in name only and I did until you realized that there was love involved? You knew about us. You even encouraged it and helped cover it up. I know you're probably hungover right now but do the words **'You fell down on the job'** ring any bells? How about **'Come back to us...he needs you'**? How about Jeannine Locke, Mellie? I'm going to ask you one of the same questions that I asked Cyrus when he called me for help earlier: why is it that when things are on the edge of disaster, I'm your greatest ally, your best hope, the only one who save the day but then as soon as things get back to normal, I'm nothing more than the uppity black bitch who can't keep her knees shut? You want to call me a homewrecker? You and Fitz wrecked your home _**way**_ before I came along. That's the only reason I did, remember? Cyrus needed help making your dead marriage look alive long enough for him to get elected."

" _You don't understand what I sacrificed to be on his arm! I had dreams, I had..._ "

" **Save it.** You still could've accomplished those dreams and more while being married to him. You were just too lazy. You were at the top of your class at Harvard. You had money before you got together with Fitz. Just about the whole system is designed to cater to you: a rich and pretty white woman and you did next to nothing useful. You could've been like Hillary. You could've been like Eleanor. You could've been like Betty. Hell, you had a shot of being like Jackie O, at least but you didn't bother to try. You allowed yourself to be pigeonholed into the role you played. You whine and complain about having to prop Fitz up all the time but the reality is that _**he**_ propped _**you**_ up. And the harsher reality is that I let him. He's been trying to get rid of you for the last 6 years and I wouldn't let him because I'm a coward. I'm afraid to be happy. I'm afraid to be left behind and that made me easy to manipulate for you and for Cyrus. Not anymore. Obviously, things have changed, Mellie. Did you like my dress? Did you see how happy he looked when I kissed him on the cheek? I should've gone for his lips. He would've let me. He always lets me because unlike _**you**_ , he actually loves me. He actually wants me. You? You're duty. You're an obligation."

" _ **His father**_..."

"...raped you and you didn't deserve that. _**Nobody**_ deserves that sort of pain and humiliation. You didn't press charges, though. You used the attack as leverage against him to secure your hold on Fitz and then you used it again to manipulate me into leaving him. **You can't blame Fitz for something he didn't even do or know about. You should've told him what happened.** You know that if you told him, Big Jerry would've died in prison and hell, knowing Fitz, he'd still be locked up for going after the old pig before calling the cops. He would've been there for you. I know this because he's always there for me when I allow him to be. He always does his best to support the people he cares for, which leads to me to another question I've meaning to ask you: knowing full and damned well that Fitz doesn't love you anymore and sees you as a nuisance, why on Earth are you still so insistent on staying married to him?"

" _ **We took Vows!**_ _He can't just throw them away!_ "

"Oh, you mean like _**you**_ did with Andrew Nichols? Your little boyfriend helped get me kidnapped and traumatized. Thanks a lot for that, by the way. When I eventually find a therapist, you're footing the bill for the sessions since he's still a prisoner in his own body."

" _I didn't...I didn't know Andrew would do that..._ "

"I bet you were rooting for it to work, though. If it had, I'd be dead or some terrorist's sex toy, Fitz would be miserable and alone like you obviously want him to be, and you'd still be First Lady. That sounds like a multi-win situation for you, doesn't it?"

" _I had_ _ **nothing**_ _to do with what happened to you, Olivia! For God's sake, I helped_ _ **save**_ _you!_ "

"Yeah, you helped by fucking him for information that didn't even matter in the long run. You can call me a whore until your face is as blue as your blood but don't think you can keep glossing over and excusing your own indiscretions, Mellie. **It doesn't work like that.** "

"... _I_ _ **know**_ _that it doesn't work like that._ "

"Do you really?"

" _ **I'm not stupid, Olivia! I know that it doesn't work like that**_ _...but it should..._ "

"No, it shouldn't. Everyone should have to own the consequences of their actions eventually. Whether it's front of a Senate committee or in front of whatever God they believe in, it has to happen. Mellie, sign the divorce papers and leave us the hell alone. You can't run me off again and the longer you draw the divorce out, the worse it's going to get for you. I'm tired and I'm completely out of patience for anyone who isn't Fitzgerald Grant III. I'm not helping you anymore. I'm on his side."

" _Oh, I know that...everyone who's watching the damned news knows that...he didn't even wait a_ _ **day**_ _before calling you to his side..._ "

"He didn't call me. I went to him. I actually expected him to tell me to go to hell. I haven't been very good or fair to him lately. I've broken his heart and I've broken his trust more than once but I...I had to try. He's always been the one chasing after me, earning me, standing his ground. I wanted...I wanted things to be different. I wanted to be happy and I _**am**_ , Mellie. Fitz and I still have a lot to work out between us but I'm happy."

" _ **Good for you**_ _...he'll ruin it, though. That happiness? He'll fuck it up for you..._ "

"No, he won't. He'll add to the good things I'm feeling. He already has. Mellie, you were miserable with him because you _**wanted**_ to be miserable. Granted, you had some serious emotional issues before you two got married and what happened with his father certainly didn't help matters but...take it from me. If you're miserable in a relationship with Fitz Grant III, it's about 80% your fault. He's good but not perfect. He gets broody, sometimes and pouty...and he does the thing with the toothpaste tube."

" _Don't make me laugh, it hurts...this whole...you can at least understand me feeling hurt, can't you? Even if you think I'm not entitled to be, you get it, don't you?_ "

"Sure. You were with him for 20 years. You had kids with him. You two have been through a lot together but it's time to let go, Mellie. **Your marriage is over.** It's been over for a very long time, well before Cyrus threw Fitz and me together. Holding onto it has hurt you, him, me, and at least a dozen other people. And for _**what?**_ Power? Pride? It's not worth it, Mellie…"

" _But, he's worth it to you?_ "

"Yes. I said ' _ **it's**_ not worth it', not ' _ **he's**_ not worth it'. Look, we all know you're not going to go quietly. It would too reasonable and I'd actually be worried if you did. I just... _ **why?**_ Why, Mellie? Why are you going to fight? What do you get out of it? What do you want?"

"... _I don't know_..."

"Are you serious?"

" _I_ _ **don't**_ _know, Olivia!_ "

The saddest thing was that the woman wasn't in denial. Mellie legitimately didn't know what she was fighting for. Fitz knew. Fitz was fighting for the chance for not just for himself but for his remaining children to be happy. He was fighting for his agency, his god given right to choose that he had allowed to be stolen from him in the name of the "Greater Good". He was fighting for her.

Olivia knew what she was fighting for. She was fighting to be whole again. She was fighting to make up for past sins. She was fighting to be able to look in the mirror and not be disgusted by what she saw, who she saw. She was fighting to have genuine joy in her life again and a big part of that genuine joy rested on Fitz's shoulders.

Hell, even Cyrus and Rowan knew what they were fighting for: revenge and power but Mellie?

 _"...he shouldn't get to just walk away and live happily ever after, not so easily. I spent 20 years with him. I gave up my career for_ _ **him**_ _. I had kids for_ _ **him**_ _. I could've been so much more if it wasn't for_ _ **him**_ _and he shouldn't get to walk away with you and leave me with nothing to show for all of it. It doesn't work like that. It shouldn't work like that. It won't work like that_ _ **. I won't let it work like that**_ _._ "

"All right, then. When you lose and you will, don't say that no one tried to warn you and don't you dare blame anyone but yourself for it. You got yourself into the sad situation you're in, Mellie. Remember that. Goodbye."

 _ **/**_

 **S** leep had welcomed Fitz with open arms. Their lovemaking from that day had completely worn him out, and the sleep he had gotten as a result was better than most of the sleep he had gotten during his presidency.

Only Olivia could provide him with enough peace of mind to sleep that well. But despite the good sleep and overall feeling of peace that he felt, Fitz still felt like his head was full.

He had dreamed of walking through their property together. That's what they would do once the sun rose and they got their bearings on the day. They'd walk around and talk. _**Really**_ talk. Get it all out in the open and deal with it. All of it. From the beginning until where they were now. It was a lot to cover, but so much of it was important. Things that could have happened differently. Things that hurt each of them. Things that they were or weren't sorry for. They would pull out the big things that they had hidden away. Things that hurt too much to touch before, but they needed to touch them now. Regardless of how painful it might be.

They had to be strong together, and readdressing their baggage would be a vital part of being a united front. As far as they knew, nearly everyone of importance was against them. No one was crazy about what Fitz was doing. The divorce. Embracing his extramarital affair. But they could weather the storm. He was a phenomenal politician, and Olivia was a genius with public relations. They would pick up the narrative they had already put into play with Fitz's speech and push it forward. The truth. Their truth. The story of their love. The love that had fought the hell and the high water. The love that had been hiding in the shadows for too long.

The love that would no longer remain silent.

But as he slept, his dreams shifted on him. His body shook, his face twisting up in to a grimace…

 _They were in the Oval, where so many of their conversations, both good and bad, had taken place. She walked in quietly, closing the door behind her, and he smiled, taking in her gorgeous form which was clad in a crisp white suit. Almost always in white, at least in part._

 _He_ _ **loved**_ _her in white._

 _But the look on her face made his smile fade. Something was wrong. Looking closer, Fitz could see that she was tense._

 _Something was definitely wrong._

 _"Livvie?" He paused and waited for her to look at him. "What is it? What's wrong?"_

 _She stood behind the couch and placed her hand onto it for support, taking a deep breath._

 _"I can't do this, Fitz. I can't be the First Lady. I can't be some American ornament. Some pointless, functionless figurehead! All dolled up with nowhere real to go. With no agenda and no actual job to do._ _ **I'm bored out of my mind!**_ _Now I understand why Mellie was restless. It's all fine for someone who doesn't have ambition or dreams of making an impact, but you know that I have both. What am I supposed to do, Fitz? Just sit around and look pretty?"_

 _He listened to her rant, his chest tightening with each word. She was right. The seemingly meaningless duties of First Lady were mundane to the great Olivia Pope. Pope-Grant. She was Olivia Pope-Grant, First Lady and wife to the President of the United States. He sighed and looked down at his white gold wedding band, fear swirling in his gut._

 _The job had already taken everything else from him. Was it going to take the love of his life too?_

 _"Livvie, I—"_

 _"I need to go. I need to get out of DC for a while. Spend some time by myself and figure out what I want."_

 _"Well, the Vermont house is—"_

 _"_ _ **No**_ _," she interrupted him again. "Somewhere else. Vermont makes me crazy and clouds my judgment. It makes me fall in love with you all over again. And I'm not sure if that's what I want to feel right now."_

 _He stared at her in disbelief. As her words sank in, tears filled his eyes. Was she serious? Was it some sick joke? She didn't want to be in love with him? What the hell was that supposed to mean?_

 _"So you're running again?"_

 _She was quiet for a moment, looking away from him. But when she spoke, her eyes were back on him._

 _She was serious._

 _"I guess I am…"_

Fitz woke with a start, gasping loudly but otherwise making no sound. His heart pounded and his chest heaved as it took him a bit to settle back into reality. In his head, he repeated the mantra to himself that it was just a dream. It was fine. **They** were fine. They were in Vermont, ready to tackle their issues and face the world head-on. Together. But what if Vermont was clouding her judgment like in the dream? What if being with him, living a life with him, wasn't what she really wanted?

 _ **What if she ran again?**_

He heard her voice down the hall and did his best to swallow his negative thoughts. It was just a dream. Her voice was strong and commanding, but not quite raised. Olivia rarely yelled. She often didn't have to raise her voice to get her point across. She was good that way. Skilled in her ways of communication. Silently, Fitz took a few steps down the hallway towards the light that was shining out of the open door of her office. He listened.

 _"…why is it that when things are on the edge of disaster, I'm your greatest ally, your best hope, the only one who can save the day, but then after things get back to normal, I'm nothing more than the uppity black bitch who can't keep her knees shut? You want to call me a homewrecker? You and Fitz wrecked your home_ _ **way**_ _before I came along. That's the only reason I did, remember? Cyrus needed help making your dead marriage look alive long enough for him to get elected…"_

Oh, she was on a roll. He winced slightly at her firm words. She was absolutely handing it to Mellie and he loved it. It was long overdue. For years, Mellie had spoken poorly to Olivia and because of the guilt she had carried, she had allowed herself to be spoken to that way. Fitz had watched it and hated it, hated himself for letting it happen. For not being able to soothe her of her guilt. But there she was, shoving the truth into Mellie's face. He was proud of her for standing up for herself. They, both separately and together, had bent to the will of Mellie and Cyrus for far too long.  
 **  
** **It was their time.**

 _"…Sure. You were with him for 20 years. You had kids with him. You two have been through a lot together, but it's time to let it go, Mellie._ _ **Your marriage is over.**_ _It's been over for a very long time, well, before Cyrus threw Fitz and me together. Holding onto it has hurt you, him, me, and at least a dozen other people. And for_ _ **what?**_ _Power? Pride? It's not worth it, Mellie…"_

She was giving Mellie more humanity than she deserved, but Fitz figured it was a 'woman to woman' thing. Something he would never be able to relate to. Olivia wasn't the type to want to fight with Mellie for the rest of their lives. He understood that completely. She had enough enemies. They both did. If they could somehow make things with Mellie as amicable as possible, their lives would be better for it.

He considering going in to join her, sitting down beside her and offering her silent support, but he decided against it. It was her moment of triumph. He wouldn't steal it from her. His time would come. So he padded quietly back down the hallway and stepped into the master bathroom, turning on the shower.

His hands adjusted the knobs until the water bordered on scalding, just how he preferred his showers. Over the years, Fitz had been forced to either provide himself with sexual fulfillment or take a cold shower to still his desire. Desire that hadn't been for his wife in a long time. Hopefully, the days of cold showers were gone. Nothing killed your overall mood quite like icy water shocking your body. He stepped into the glass-walled stall and hissed soundly as the shower head pelted against the still somewhat raw scratches that Olivia had left there.

Once the sting had subsided, he chuckled softly. That was his Livvie.

Always leaving her mark behind.

The almost unbearable hot water cascaded down and over his body, soothing his sore and tired muscles. He was sore, but he felt alive. Olivia made him feel alive. Being with her in a way that promised real greatness and happiness for their future gave him life. His motions were leisurely as he soaped himself up and let the water rinse the suds away. He wasn't sure how long she would be on the phone, so he had no reason to hurry. Neither of them did. Not anymore. They had time, something they had never been able to have before.

They didn't have to rush anymore.

When he was done, Fitz shut off the water and stepped out onto the white rug, toweling himself off. He pulled on a fresh pair of blue and white tartan boxers and a white t-shirt. In a way that had been honed and practiced, he looked into the mirror, after wiping it off with a towel, and took a comb to his unruly hair, parting it just so and taming his unruly curls with just a hint of product. He shaved. He brushed his teeth. All just a part of his daily routine. The difference was that Olivia was waiting for him a couple of rooms over.

That difference made all of it seem so much more worth it.

 _ **/**_

 **S** he wasn't sure why she was crying.

After ending the call with Mellie, Olivia had drawn her legs up and before she realized it, she was crying. There weren't any sobs or even whimpers, just silent and steady tears. She knew that she should get up and find Fitz. He was awake. She had heard him moving around and his breathing in the hallway. It was deep and there was a distinct rasp to it on the exhale, almost as if he had a slight cold all of the time. Even if she hadn't heard the breathing, her body always knew when he was around. It was as if there was an invisible tether between them, drawing them towards each other, even during their bad times, their worst times...

A quiet knock at the door caused an audible sob to escape her and Fitz stood in the doorway, uncertainty on his face. She didn't blame him for that. Before, she would pull away when she cried or felt vulnerable. She'd deflect and say that she was fine. She'd lash out until he backed off. He wanted to be there for her but he was still unsure if she would let him...

Silently, she extended her arms, pleading for him to come to her, to hold her and make her feel safe, to anchor her again. His arms went around her and she buried her face in his chest, letting his freshly showered smell comfort her further.

" _I don't know why I'm crying...she didn't even say anything...I did all the talking..._ "

"I know you did...I'm glad you did...she's gotten away with hurting you for too long, her and Cyrus. I let them hurt you and demean you. I shouldn't have done that..."

" _I shouldn't have either. I just...I felt like I deserved it, you know? I felt dirty and ashamed. I still do but there's perspective, now._ _ **Yes**_ _, I fell in love with a married man but...in the overall scheme of things, it's not_ _ **nearly**_ _as horrible as what they've done and what other people do. They have no right to judge me. Nobody does."_

 _/_

 **F** itz laid out his clothes for the day onto the end of the bed and then stopped suddenly. It was quiet. She wasn't on the phone anymore. He was a little worried about what he might find, but he made his way back down the hall and tapped his knuckles onto the door twice to let her know that he was there. That he would always be there. He wasn't going anywhere. Not without her.

She was crying.

His heart ached.

Seeing Olivia cry was high on the list of things that Fitz absolutely hated. But not knowing why she was crying was that much worse, especially when Mellie was involved. Her reaching for him reassured him and he stepped to her immediately, sitting down on the plush couch beside her and wrapped her up in his arms. He pressed a sweet kiss to her brow and gave her an anchoring squeeze. His Sweet Baby…

Cyrus and Mellie had hurt the two of them for the last time. They, together, were taking back the control. One step at a time. Perhaps her tears were tears of relief, among other new emotions that still felt foreign. It made Fitz's stomach turn uncomfortably when she said that she still felt dirty. That she still felt ashamed. While their love might not have cured under ideal circumstances, it hurt more than a tad to hear her say that. But he couldn't blame her. She had been shamed by some of the closest people around them for years. She would probably continue to be shamed now that they were out. It didn't pay in moral tokens to be the female counterpart of a public affair.

"I hate that you feel that way. I really do. I get it. I understand it. But I hate it. You're right though, they don't have the right to judge us after all of the things that they've done to try to stay where they were. Their sins are no better than ours."

He drew her face up so he could look at her and gave her a tiny smile, his thumb wiping away her tears.

The smile that she gave him in return was the reassurance that he needed. She was still in it with him. The words that she had heard from Mellie hadn't deterred her enough to make her want to run, which was a big change for her. For them. It was progress, and that's what they needed. To change the way that they handled things. Their survival depended on it, and Fitz intended on doing much more than surviving with her. He wouldn't settle for less than the happy life together that they deserved. That they had planned and thought about since the campaign trail.

"Why don't we get dressed and get some breakfast? Then you can look around the house a little more, maybe we'll take a walk in the orchard. Get some fresh air," he suggested, his fingers toying with the natural tight curls of her hair.

He knew that once they started talking, it would all spill out. She didn't seem ready for that heavy precipitation. The dam would open and flood the world around them. They needed a minute. But now it was more than a minute together. More than the stolen minutes in hallways, on couches, over the phone. They could do things when it suited them instead of when the world allowed them sixty seconds to be with each other.

In their own time. In their own home.

Together.

Olivia nodded and pulled him down, kissing him softly, slowly, taking in his love. The love that he had been offering her for so long that she had been trying to resist. When she pulled back, he grinned sweetly and she stroked his cheek. She wanted to see more of the house he had built for them. She wanted to spend more time with him. She wanted him, and finally, she could say she had him, despite the kinks that still had to be worked out.

He stood and offered her his hand, giving hers a squeeze when she took it. Fitz led her back to the bedroom and released her as she wandered into the huge walk-in closet. He knew her, and knew how cute and funny she was about her clothes. Always donned in the latest from some front runner designer. The closet had been designed with that in mind and had plenty of room for her to put all of her present and future clothes in on her side. Rods that could hold dozens of hangers. Shelves for shoes and purses. A tiered display rack for jewelry. Drawers for socks, underwear, and anything else she decided on. He pulled on his dark wash jeans and stood at the doorway watching her as she took in the space before looking through the small assortment of clothes he had provided for her.

He couldn't wait to see her as they explored the house even more.

Fitz tugged a red polo shirt over his head and headed downstairs to scope out the fridge for their breakfast. He had called ahead, of course, and had the house fully stocked to prepare for their homecoming. The fridge had a little of everything, including a few of her favorites that he had mentally tallied over the years. As he peered into the appliance he noticed that she had already gotten into her chocolate milk and he chuckled to himself. When she wasn't indulging in the snobbiest wines she could get her hands on, Fitz knew she had a thing for chocolate milk. It was her late-night go to on the trail when she didn't want alcohol and it warmed him to know that some things hadn't changed.

He pulled out the eggs and some vegetables. Omelets were simple and he wasn't trying to spend forever in the kitchen. Not when he wanted to spend the day with her. But first, coffee for him and tea for her. By the time he heard her footsteps descending the staircase, he was stirring sugar into her tea, his mug of black coffee sitting on the counter already. He met her across the room and gave her a chaste kiss, handing her the warm mug.

"Let's watch the sunrise," she told him and he nodded.

They walked out onto the front porch, mugs in hand, and sat in the pair of rocking chairs. The sun had started to peek over the horizon, its orange and yellow light casting color over the land. It was beautiful.

Just like the life they were going to have together. Waking up just like that, every day if possible.

/

 **T** he stained glass window design was of roses. The stems and foliage were made of shades of green ranging from sea foam to hunter. The smaller blooms were shades of pink, red, and purple. The main ones were snow white. As dawn steadily approached, the floor to ceiling length closet window seemed to glow and Olivia stood in front of it, closing her eyes as if she were praying. She wasn't. Not really. Her belief in God wasn't exactly tangible. She subscribed to the idea of there being some sort of higher power but not enough to really affect her way of thinking or of doing things.

Plus, if there was a God, Olivia was sure that she would've been struck down by lightning long ago for some of the choices she made, the things she had done, the people she had hurt... **no.** No, she was _**not**_ going there, right now. She was _**not**_ going to those bad places now. Eventually, she would have to. She had said to Mellie that no human could avoid consequences forever and contrary to popular belief, popular belief that she had played up when she felt she had to, Olivia Pope was very human. She was human with human flaws and human strengths.

Still, she was not going to further open the can of worms yet. She wasn't ready to and honestly, she still couldn't believe what she had accomplished so far. She had broken through a lot of barriers very quickly. It hadn't even been a week since she decided to stop hiding. It hadn't even been a week since she had come to the Truman Balcony. It hadn't even been a week since she had not only returned to Fitz's thankfully open arms but also allowed them to be free. She had let go of enough cowardice and enough of her need to control everything to let him be honest. Full blown honesty oozed from his pores.

How he still could do it so easily was a mystery to her. It always had been, even in their brief Candidate/Fixer fully professional times. How did he do it? What was his secret? Could she learn how? She would like to...

The smell of fresh coffee had her opening her eyes again with a smile. Fitz was downstairs and making them breakfast. He would put on the industrial strength Black Death coffee he preferred before putting on the kettle for her tea. She'd drink coffee, too but it had to have lots of cream and sugar plus 2 spearmint candies in it before it was palatable to her. When they were on The Trail, Fitz always used to carry lots of spearmints for her. A couple of times, he'd even put them in her travel mug for her.

Moving to her side of the closet, she nodded in approval of the clothing Fitz had obtained for her. They were the right brands and the right colors of dark cool neutrals and white. He had also picked up some pieces in brighter colors: lavender, robin's egg blue, red, coral, orange and sunshine yellow. Feeling a bit whimsical, Olivia picked a sleeveless robin's egg blue top (because it very closely matched his eye color) and a black skirt that would flare out when she spun around. Dropping Fitz's robe, she pulled on a set of lacy white undergarments and let out a fond laugh, even as she rolled her eyes. Although the underwear was actually quite comfortable and practical, Olivia knew that he hadn't been thinking completely with his brain when he picked them out. At least not the brain in his head, anyway...

She loved both brains equally and he had wonderful taste in lingerie (unlike most straight men...) so it was okay.

Pulling on the rest of her clothes, she looked between her choices of heels before deciding to forgo shoes altogether. She was at home. She could be barefoot at home and when they took their walk, her leopard print flats would be fine to wear. On her way out of the closet, she grabbed a pale gray wrap (similar to the one she had worn to Big Jerry's funeral...) and draped it over her shoulders.

Descending the stairs slowly, she took him in. He was moving through the kitchen with ease and pulling out supplies for what would eventually end up being omelets. Her stomach rumbled and her mouth watered at the idea. Unlike her, Fitz could not only cook basic survival dishes, he could cook restaurant quality food, especially when it came to breakfast. Olivia had a few core dishes but mainly subsisted on takeout, chocolate milk, water, and of course, wine and popcorn.

Fitz had put on a red polo and it hugged his torso in all the right ways. In fact, the shirt seemed to be a bit too small but as long as he was comfortable, she wouldn't say anything. Dark wash jeans and bare feet finished his outfit and she accepted his kiss with a smile. She still felt a bit raw from the phone calls but her smile was genuine.

"Let's watch the sunrise."

Fitz nodded and she followed him outside to a pair of rocking chairs, rocking chairs that she hoped they would be able to sit in together for years to come. The sun slowly ascended high into the sky and cast everything around them in rich shades of gold, orange, and crimson, warming everything. It was beautiful...

It was as beautiful as the life that they were going to fight for and win.

 _ **/**_

 **T** here were times, moments, when Fitz was completely captivated by her beauty. He found himself absorbed in her, in the most chaste way that he could manage, as they sat in the rocking chairs on the porch. It was the whole moment, he was sure. Where they were. The domestication of them being together that way. A man and a woman, spending the morning together, watching the sunrise from their home. As relaxed as they could be given the mountains they still had to climb. They were alone and in private, but no longer hidden. The world knew that they were together. That they were in love. And god, did he ever love her. With every single fiber of his being. Every cell in his body. Every beat of his heart, was for her. He existed for her. And in that moment, as she watched the sunrise and as he watched her, Fitz fell in love with Olivia just a little more. If that was possible.

" _Beautiful_ ," he murmured as he reached over to take her hand, his eyes never wavering from her.

She turned her head to glance at him and caught him staring, realizing that he was talking about her and not the sky. The sunrise was a vision, sure, but Fitz would rather look at her if given the choice. And now he had the choice, always. There would be no more averting his eyes from her when they were in public. No more catching himself. He could look at her whenever he wanted. He watched her smile in response and gave her a grin of his own when she brought his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles.

He felt so happy, so fulfilled in that moment. The only thing missing was his children, and that would surely come later. Teddy could join them once things calmed down. Karen would probably be angry at first, for a while knowing her stubborn streak, but Fitz knew she would come around. He was worried, but felt confident that it would settle well, eventually. At least she hadn't walked in on Fitz and Olivia being intimate. Fitz wouldn't be able to live with himself if that had happened. It was a large part of why they had been discreet in their past. To protect his children. He hoped that Karen would see how happy he was with Olivia. A happiness that she had never really witnessed, because he and Mellie surely hadn't been the poster couple for a blissful marriage. It wasn't as if Olivia was a stranger to Karen either. She and Olivia had bonded during his first campaign and when she had endured the unfortunate and reckless situation at that party and called Olivia to help her handle it. When she had been struggling to cope with the loss of Gerry. They had all been struggling. Fitz had struggled, without Olivia, when she had left. But that was over. She was back. Back in his arms and back in his heart.

Though if he was being honest, she had never left his heart.

Despite everything she had done to hurt him, he had _**never**_ stopped loving her. Once, he had seen that as a problem. As if it was an addiction. Olivia was his kryptonite, which had easily been demonstrated when she had been kidnapped. Another thing they needed to talk about. She was both his weakness and his strength. Something he both loved and hated about their relationship. She could build him up, higher and more confident than anyone else could push him. But she could also tear him down if she wanted to, if the world wanted to use her to lower him. But he was sure that he could also do the same to her. Yes, she had done things that had hurt him. Plenty of things. But he had also done things, _**said**_ things that had hurt her.

He was so exhausted of them dancing in circles and hurting each other. It was why he had chosen to come clean about their relationship. That stage of them was over. They were going to talk it out. They were going to be honest with each other. No more hurting. **No more running.**

 _ **/**_

" **B** eautiful..."

Olivia knew that he was talking about her and even as a smile curved her lips upwards, she could feel pink tint her cheeks. Fitz was far from the first person to call her beautiful but he was the first person to really mean it. Even when she was a mess, he thought that she was the most beautiful, fascinating person on the planet, except for his children.

His children...Karen and Teddy would share this home with them. Teddy would probably transition well but Karen? Karen was still very vulnerable, very hurt, and very angry. She had spent her entire life uprooted from place to place, displayed for political theater and she had lost her big brother so unfairly, so cruelly. Now, this. Olivia was certain that the girl (and her older brother) had an inkling of something more between herself and Fitz but having confirmation, having everyone on the street giving an opinion about it, having an embittered Mellie all too willing to play the martyr...it wouldn't be easy. Karen would likely lash out at her and Olivia was ready for it. She had been in Karen's shoes after Maya's "death" so she would understand and endure the venom to get to the truth. Eventually, they would reach a new understanding, maybe even a level of affection.

She would never try and replace Mellie but with help, Olivia was sure that she'd be a good step mother.

Gently, she pressed a kiss to the back of his knuckles and sighed softly, leaning back in her rocker with her eyes shut. Even with all the obstacles ahead of them, Olivia felt at peace. She was where she belonged with whom she belonged. She had stopped fighting what felt most natural to her. Loving Fitz, being with Fitz, allowing herself to be present and actually hope for a positive future with Fitz felt natural. When she allowed it to be, it was easy. Well, not easy. No relationship worth fighting for existed without a bit of difficulty but the trouble between them usually started when she wanted to run away, to keep control, to do "the smart thing". She had hurt him, devastated him many a time in the name of "the smart thing". She had tried to let him go, to release him from the poison she thought she was to his political and personal life time and time again, leading to nothing good. Especially the latest time...

She was glad that he was still here.

He almost hadn't been...

 _ **/**_

 **I** n that moment with her, Fitz was so glad to be alive. Thankful that he had survived to experience that moment. The feel of her lips on his hand made his heart flutter in a way that he had missed terribly during days without her. Being with her warmed him, like the rising sun heated the world and their bodies as they sat there side by side. She was his light. His Livvie. The great love of his life. He had confessed that to Cyrus in the Oval once during his first term and it hadn't changed. It was still the truth. Fitz knew that he hadn't loved, nor would he ever love, another person the way he loved Olivia. He didn't want to. He wasn't sure he could handle that emotion twice over. It had rocked him, made him stagger. And while he didn't regret it, he wasn't willing to be shaken that way again by someone else. No. It wasn't worth it for anyone other than her.

When she was by his side, he felt like the world was at his feet. He, they, could face anything. She made him feel confident and sure of himself. After so many other moments of being unsure in his life, about so many things. About his father. About his marriage. About his integrity as a man and as a husband. About his presidency. About his life, generally, and whether or not he wanted to live it. He had been submerged in such darkness before, that having the sun, literally and metaphorically, shine on his face felt foreign. Of the two of them, Fitz was usually the more optimistic. **But when it came to Olivia, Fitz had learned the hard way not to get his hopes up. For they always seemed to end up crashing down, no matter the effort. No matter the cost.**

His dream that morning had reminded him of the emptiness he had felt when she had left him the last time. Just the hint of the possibility that she could leave again had made him wake with a start, breathless, aching from the bottom of his heart. Yet, that was nothing compared to the agony he had felt in her true absence. In the reality of the experience. That cold and empty feeling of nothing and everything at once. A numb anguish, contradicting and destroying him bit by bit, from the inside out. Gnawing at the inner parts of him like an animal. Tearing him down from his more than six foot stature to the lowest he had ever fallen. Buried beneath the floor and unable to regain his sure stance.

 **The feeling the accompanied no longer wanting to live.**

And though he tried to fight it, he felt the ghost of those feelings start to flood back over him in searing waves as they sat there, reminding him of their past and that it had nearly killed him once. No matter how beautiful it was, the sunrise, the moment, **HER, he was still filled to the brim with the fear that she would leave him again.** The caffeine from his coffee, his usual elixir of life, wasn't helping the worry and anxiety that began to swirl in his gut. His recurring uncertainty when it came to her. It was why he kept asking her subconsciously if he was dreaming, if she was _**really**_ there. He wondered just how long it would take him to change his line of thinking. To realize that she was, indeed, there beside him. That she was staying. Well, if she **_did_ ** stay. See? There it was again, that horrid doubt. But history repeated itself, they said. **She always ran. _Always._**

Fitz just wondered when she would bolt this time. What he would do to cause her to flee. The moment and the wonderful ones they had shared the day before felt entirely too good to be true. It was all he had ever wanted, really. Truly. A life with her. A public life with her where she didn't have to feel shamed, where they didn't have to rush and hide. But was it real? Was it going to last? Because it always seemed to be inevitable, no matter how hard he tried to hold onto her. No matter how valiantly he fought for her and their love. Olivia Pope ran. It was a wonder that she was a swimmer in school instead of a track star. If she was good at anything outside of fixing, shopping, and driving him crazy…she was good at running.

Fitz tried to swallow the golf ball of feelings that was creeping its way up his throat. He wanted just a little longer, dammit. He wanted more time to just be with her before the heaviness of them started to weigh them down. Another hour or so of contentment before they opened their mouths and ruined it. He would always want more time. There would never be enough time of contentment before reality came crashing in. He wanted to cling to it desperately, like she had done to him the afternoon before in the hallway when he was so deeply inside of her. All of those feelings that were brewing inside of him made him want her again, despite the way his mind was conflicting against itself.

He wanted to take her, right there on the porch on the railing. Until they forgot how dysfunctional they were, apart or together. **In a way, Fitz knew how to run too. He had his own method of avoiding their problems.** His own fashion of sprinting into the far and beyond at the first sight of trouble. **The difference was that when he was afraid, he ran** _ **to**_ **her instead of away.** Fitz buried himself within her, often literally, in an effort to run away from the things they couldn't face for long enough to fix. The things that hurt to gaze at for too long. Fitz got lost in her so that he could run away from part of himself. So that he could run away from his doubt. Doubt in both himself and her.

As if only she could save him from it.

He had shifted his gaze to the horizon as his thoughts washed over him, dirtying him. His expression had slowly fallen. His brow was creased, his jaw clenched tight, every line visible on his face. It was all caving in on the inside, but her calling his name brought him out of it and made him look over at her. She was looking at him, curiosity tinged with worry in her eyes.

"You're brooding," she informed him.

All he could do was nod at first and he heaved a great sigh, looking down at his feet and the boards of the porch for a moment. He didn't want to let go of it. His grasp was tight on the happiness they had shared, in their safe bubble of bliss that they had found together. It was the most comfort he had felt in years, since their much more carefree days on the trail. He was scared that if they started digging, she would be spooked and that would cause her to bail on him. On them.

If there was one thing Fitz knew for certain, it was that he wouldn't survive watching her leave him again. But he didn't want to tell her that. He would be damned if she stayed simply because she knew what leaving would do to him. She had to want to stay. If she didn't want it, he didn't want her there. No matter how much it would hurt to let her go, he certainly didn't want her there against her own wishes.

He forced the complicated jumble of thoughts to quiet and looked over at her, his expression a little calmer than it had been a moment before.

"I know…I'm sorry." He gave her a sad smile. "Let's eat. Then we'll walk and talk," he suggested, picking up his mug and sipping at his coffee, accepting the hot, bitter liquid as it mirrored one of the many facets of feeling that he felt inside.

 _ **/**_

 **F** itz was brooding.

He had been brooding since the porch. He had brooded while he cooked a mushroom, green pepper, and Swiss cheese omelet that she had happily devoured. He had brooded while she helped him with the breakfast dishes. He had brooded when he called the few Secret Service agents he allowed to accompany them to let them know that they would be outside...

He was brooding now as they walked side by side in the apple orchard and the sadness had come back to his eyes, the stiffness in his shoulders, the wariness in his body language. Olivia knew why. She knew why and it made her sick with regret and self loathing.

 **He was afraid that she was going to leave again.**

He was walking on eggshells with her, letting her avoid the Conversation that they truly needed to continue, because past experience told him that as soon as he said something that offended her, something that made her feel raw, something that honestly needed to be said, she was out the door running.

He didn't want her to leave again.

Fitz wanted to be happy, wanted to be in the moment with her, ached to fully believe in her, but the lingering and sadly very relevant fear of her bolting hovered over him like a dark cloud. Even now, Olivia had to constantly tell herself that she was a Gladiator. Gladiators didn't run away and then her near eidetic memory would promptly supply each instance of when she broke that rule, along with all of the negative consequences attached to it. She had hurt him. She had hurt herself. She had hurt others, used others, gotten others killed/injured just because she had been a coward. Fitz still loved her, adored her, needed her but the full trust he had in her had been shattered. Her past actions had left him no choice but to be wary, to want reassurance that he wasn't dreaming and that she was really with him...

What had she done?

That was the wrong question. Olivia knew what she had done.

How could she...how could _**they**_ fix it? That was the question that she needed to focus on. She needed to...

"I'm not leaving, Fitz. I know you're waiting for me to leave again."

"Liv..."

"Don't Liv me. I know you. You're scared that you'll say something that I don't want to hear, do something that I don't like or understand and that I'll leave because that's what I always do. I deflect, I hurt people before they can hurt me, and I'm always running away."

"...you're here, now."

"I am here now and I'll be here later. I'm not running away anymore. I want you. I want _**us**_. I want to fight for us."

/

 **I** t felt good, _**great**_ even, to hear her say that. All of those things together in the same sentence. She was there with him. She wasn't planning on leaving (but did she ever plan to leave ahead of time?). She wanted him. She wanted them. She was willing to fight for them. But he still wasn't convinced. In various ways and phrases, though not all at once, he had heard those things before. They had tried to plan a life together before, and she had jumped ship at the last moment. All of the years he had been reaching out for her, she had reached out for a moment, teasing him with the graze of her fingertips before jerking her hand back in fear before he could pull her into his everlasting embrace.

She had left him wounded in the deepest recesses of his heart. Places that only she had touched. Places that ached. She couldn't push the blame on this particular subject onto anyone else. He hadn't left over and over. He knew he had pushed her away after Defiance, but that was a different issue. One that he was willing to cover with her if she wanted.

But as he walked with her then, through their beautiful property in the sunlight, Fitz was heavy with fear.

He wanted to believe her, but he wasn't naïve when it came to her.

 **Not anymore.**

" _ **...**_ you have _ **no**_ idea how much I want to believe you, Olivia.I love you and I'm not saying that you're lying, but I've heard all of this before. We've planned this escape before, and you didn't want it. You weren't ready to be together. You left me. What's different now? What has changed? Because I can't stand to watch you walk away from me again, Livvie. I _**can't.**_ **I can't keep doing this with you.** The back and forth. I feel like I'm constantly trying to pull you back to me and I can't keep doing it. And I don't know what I need to hear you say, what I need you to do, to prove to me that you mean it this time. I don't have an answer to that. But all of this time, you've watched me try to earn you. I meant what I said in the Residence, when we were in bed. **I need you to earn me, Olivia.** I know it's harsh and that I'm throwing your own words back at you, but I _**need**_ that. I need that from you. So tell me…what's different this time? What are we going to do differently this time to make this work?"

He knew that everything that could possibly happen to create change had happened since then, but she needed to tell him. She needed to speak up and tell him what exactly had changed in her mind to make her want this life with him after shrinking away from it before. He needed to know what made it click into place for her, because it had always made sense for him. Vermont had always been the plan for Fitz. To live a peaceful life post-Presidency with her. To raise children together. To be happy. Nothing had changed in his plan. He still wanted all of that, with her, more than anything. But watching her leave again wasn't an option for him. She had forced him to live through it more than enough times.

Not again. He knew he wasn't strong enough.

He tried to not allow himself to mentally tally the exact number of times she had darted out of his grasp and away from the love he had for her. Too many was the simple answer, but each time had hurt differently. When she resigned as his Press Secretary. All of the little moments in between everything when she had pulled away. When she had resisted what they now knew was irresistible. When she had ran back to OPA after they had planned his divorce meticulously after the assassination attempt. When she had pushed him away so forcefully after her kidnapping, in disgust and disbelief of the lengths he had gone to try to ensure her safety. One of the many moments when his boundless love had been too much for her to bear. When she had left after Gerry had been killed. That time she hadn't been alone, and that pressed the barbs of betrayal deeper still into his chest.

" _Do you know how it felt to know that you left with him? Do you understand how badly that hurt me?_ _Do you know how it felt that you had left with_ _ **him**_ _when it should have been with me?_ I know that I'm married, but I never let you doubt that it's you that I want. That you're who I love. Do you know how it felt to know that he got to touch you? That you _ **let**_ him touch you? I couldn't stop thinking about that damn sex tape that Cyrus made me watch. I couldn't get those images out of my head. I know I slipped up with Amanda Tanner, and that was a mistake. A terrible one. You left, and I was weak. But that was different. That was **once** , one time, one rushed blowjob one night after hours. You disappeared with Jake. For _**months**_. How was I supposed to feel about that? Gerry was murdered, right under my nose, you left when I needed you. I had no one. **You left me alone** …and I…" he trailed off, smiling bitterly before taking his lower lip between his teeth sharply.

The bezoar of emotions stirred in his belly, the red hot inner agony rubbing him raw. He wished he could just spit it all out at once, to feel the pain lifted. To be free of the weight after so long. But he could only let it out piece by piece, apparently, reopening wounds and reliving the ache all over again. He had to try to clean them out and stitch them up before they festered.

Fitz couldn't look at her. Not with the lump of feelings threatening to gag him. He had to get it out and off of his chest. There were things he hadn't talked about, with anyone. Things that she, if anyone, needed to hear and understand if they were going to move on from their past. The way she had made him feel when she had left him behind. How he hadn't wanted to live. He let his gaze follow the lines of trees they were walking through, focusing on the colors of the slowly ripening apples that they held. His hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

"I've told you before, Olivia. **I can't breathe without you.** And that's what it felt like, going through each day without being able to breathe. To lose Gerry, and _**then**_ you? After going to your apartment and realizing that you were really gone…I couldn't take it. I drank, all the time. But I still couldn't escape the empty feeling. So I got hammered one night, so drunk I could hardly stand, and I took some of Mellie's Valium on top of it. I was so tired of feeling. I just wanted it to stop. I came to on the bathroom floor in the Residence with the worse headache I'd had since I was shot. They had to pump my stomach. Said I was blue when they found me. I stayed in bed for over a week after that. Wouldn't see or speak to anyone except Cyrus. He handled everything. The media only reported that I suffered from exhaustion and dehydration. It was only a blip on the radar. It was closed tight and handled. Believable. I had lost Gerry, you left, and I tried to kill myself. No big deal."

Tears had silently been streaming down his cheeks, but he couldn't stifle the soft sob that pushed through his lips when he had finished speaking, his strength faltering. The put-together front that he had been hiding behind and forcing himself to put on began to crumble. He stopped walking and turned his back to her completely as his shoulders racked with another, more forceful sob.

All of the hurt was flooding to the surface, threatening to suffocate him…

 _ **/**_

 **P** ain, fiery, gut wrenching pain filled her with every word he spoke, pain accompanied by revulsion.

The revulsion wasn't towards him. It was towards herself. She had...what had she done? What had she done to him? How could she have gotten it so wrong? How could she have been so selfish, so scared, so stupid? God, she had been so _**stupid**_! She had run away from all the big scary emotions, pushed him away to protect herself, saying it was for the Greater Good but she had been _**wrong.**_ She had been wrong and cruel and horrible.

Fitz was absolutely right. While he had contributed to their repeated breakdowns in communication, while he had pushed her away after Defiance, the bulk of the hurt inflicted between them was on her. She had left him. She had left him over and over again. She had broken his heart over and over again.

She had resigned as Director of Communications without the common decency to do it to his face. She had punished him for his actions with Amanda Tanner like she had never done anything wrong between them. She had derailed their plan to be together after he had come to her, heart and spirit in his hand to run out the clock. She had...Jake...Jake had been a mistake from the start and while Fitz had contributed to him being able to complete his Mission from Command, the way that she had used him as a media red herring, the way that she had forced Fitz to see her with him, the way that she had ran away to that damned _ **Island**_ while Fitz was needing her, calling for her, wanting her, damned near dying without her...

Cautiously, she approached him and stopped just short of touching him.

" _ **Look at me.**_ "

Slowly, stiffly, he turned around and her vision swam with fast, hot tears.

"It _**is**_ a big deal. It is a _**very**_ big and horrible deal that you tried to kill yourself. It is very big and horrible that the catalyst to your suicide attempt, to what you had to go through was because of _**me.**_ I wasn't thinking of anyone but myself. I wasn't thinking of anything but _**my**_ pain and I... **I am** _ **so**_ **sorry, Fitzgerald.** I should not have left you. I _**never**_ should've left you. I made so many mistakes, caused you and so many others pain because I was a coward and I _**still**_ am. I am absolutely _**terrified**_ to be with you because...even at our worst times, you've always been consistent and patient and...I ran because I was afraid to be with you and then lose you. I was afraid of being left behind and thrown away so I did...I did _**so**_ much damage to you and you didn't deserve it."

Mutely, he nodded in agreement and she swallowed thickly, her words halting but genuine.

"What's different this time is that...I...want... **I don't want to settle.** I was going to again but...I deserve to be whole again and to have genuine joy and peace. A big part of that happening is with you, Fitz. It's...I want you. I want _**us**_. I want to earn us. I _**need**_ to earn you and us. I have been horrible to you. I really have. I've been selfish and manipulative and immature and just so...and you still love me, anyway! Even after I lied to you, even after I ran off with someone that you trusted, even when I lashed out at you and made you feel no better than your piece of shit sperm donor, even...even when I threw you out and threw the ring you gave me in your face, _**our**_ ring, **you still love me!** I don't understand why but you still love me! You don't give up and you deserve that same devotion from me!"

Her body was shaking with the force of her emotions but Olivia forced herself to stand firm, to look at him head on.

"I love you. I _**love**_ you and I want to make things right between us. What can I do to make things right between us? I need you to help me, baby. What can I do? What do you need from me?"

 _ **/**_

 **H** e listened to her, just like she had listened to him, letting himself calm down. Fitz wasn't one to cry often. He had been raised on the stereotypical he-man Republican bullshit that men weren't supposed to express their feelings. It was part of the reason he had kept things so bottled up. All of the hurt. Sure, he was honest with Olivia about the depth of his feelings for her, but he kept his wounds guarded, kept silent about the ways she had afflicted him. She had made him strong in so many ways, but boy, had she also created a weak spot inside of him. Every part of him was captivated by her, in the best and worst ways. For better or worse, he was in love with her. She was his everything, and he really didn't want to have to let go of her anymore. Because she was there. She was _**right there**_ , coaxing him to look at her and actually attempting to communicate.

She was acknowledging her role in his life, in the things that had torn them apart and hurt him. She was vocalizing her flaws, the flaws that he saw but looked past. He loved her despite them. He always had. She was _**far**_ from perfect, but he loved her anyway. Olivia was finally opening up. The Olivia Pope, who often hid behind a forced stoic expression, was giving him a rare view of her mind. She was asking him what he needed from her, on a personal level instead of on a professional one.

It felt like progress.

He hoped so.

" _ **This!**_ You can keep doing this. **I need you to talk to me, Livvie.** You always shut down and you can't keep shutting me out, even if you're trying to protect me. Just… _**stay**_. Be scared, be angry, be anything you need to be. Just be with me. Yell and scream at me if you have to. Cry, throw things. I can take it. I can take that. I can take you throwing that ring at me again a hundred times in anger if it doesn't mean you're leaving me again. Fight with me instead of running from me. Stay, or if you have to go, if you have to take a moment to get your bearings, do it. Tell me that you need some space and do what you have to do. But, goddammit, Olivia, **come back to me.** Don't make me think that you're not going to come back. Can you do that? Because if you can't, if you can't promise me that you'll stay and work through it when things get tough, you need to walk away _**now**_. I can't get my hopes up about this again without you promising me."

/

 **S** he could feel her long time defenses try to engage. She could hear the words in her mind, words that would deflect and placate. She could feel the physical need to get away but Olivia was determined to hold her ground. What he was asking for was not unreasonable. In fact, it was pretty much the standard to any functioning relationship. All he wanted from her was communication and consistency. Fitz was being open with her again, being raw with her again. He was showing his underbelly again and this time, she would not gut him for the sake of the "Greater Good" or to protect herself.

This was her second chance. No, not her second...god, she had lost count of how many times they had started over but this was yet another chance to make it right, to get it right. She would not throw it away. She would not squander it. She would not let anyone, especially herself ruin it.

Go Big or Go Home.

Go Big _**and**_ Go Home.

Go Big and _**Stay**_ Home.

" **I can do that.** I _**will**_ do that. I'm here, baby and I will stay as long as you want me to. I promise."

 _ **/**_

 **S** he was agreeing to his terms. She was going to at least try to do better, to really try to work through whatever jumped into their path. The world was already going to try to tear them apart, they had to work together to overcome their own demons and the obstacles that life threw at them. She was willing to try. She was promising. It was much further than they had gotten before.

Fitz took a step towards her, closing the distance she had left between them while they spoke. They had needed that space. To hear the words instead of feeling the touch of each other. But they had said their part, for the moment. There was still much left to be said, but it was enough.

 **It was a start.**

They had a real chance at happiness, for the first time.

"Good, because I don't plan on letting you go," he told her, delicately brushing a curl back from her face as he looked down at her.

She smiled up at him, reaching up to cup his cheek, and blinked suddenly startled by the raindrop that hit her face.

They looked up at the sky, which had grown cloudy and darkened while they were talking. Both of them had been too wrapped up in the conversation to notice the storm that had rolled in. With no hesitation, the raindrops accelerated, threatening to soak them.

"Shit, c'mon," he murmured, taking her hand and leading her further down the path in a jog.

The pavilion was in sight, but by the time they reached it they were more than a little wet and laughing. Once they were beneath the roof, Fitz shook, water flinging off of his face and curls. The air was chilly, not cold, but cool enough with them being damp. He tugged his shirt over his head, glad to be free of the sodden fabric. His mouth dropped a short kiss onto her lips and he pulled back with a smile.

"I'm going to get a fire going. There are blankets, maybe even some towels, in that closet over there if you want to get them," he told her, nodding to the door near the hearth.

He had planned the space and had it built after she had advised him to not sell their home. To wait. It had given him hope, which was what he needed at the time. It was a sturdy pavilion with concrete flooring, designed for any gatherings that they might have. Specifically and ideally, he had envisioned their wedding reception being held there one day. The long sides of the structure were open, facing the horizon to take in either the sunrise or sunset, depending on the time of day. On one end there was a huge stone fireplace, not unlike the one in their living room, just on a larger scale.

Fitz tossed his shirt onto one of the few hexagon picnic tables that was closest to the fireplace. He gathered a few blocks of wood from the pile and arranged them in the clean hearth, adding some smaller pieces strategically to light it properly. Finding the matches on the mantel, thankfully, he struck one and lit some kindling, prodding the more narrow pieces of wood first until they lit. In a few minutes, the arrangement began to crackle and warm the area.

 _ **/**_

 **I** t made a nice bit of ironic sense that as soon as they both got raw, got very real, the heavens opened up. It was like the sky was weeping with them, not just the bitter tears but the tears that would rejuvenate, the tears that would finally heal. Even now, Olivia knew that she and Fitz had much more to talk to each other about. They had new demons and hurts to bring to light and they still had to have firm resolutions to the ones they already had. Identifying the problems and coming up with theoretical solutions was only half the battle. Now, they had to make it work in execution. More to the point, _**she**_ had to make it work in execution.

It would be an uphill but worthwhile battle.

Grabbing a stack of blankets and towels from the closet he mentioned, Olivia placed them on the table adjacent to the one his shirt rested on before she sat down, propping her head up on one of her hands to watch him. He was kneeling at the fireplace, adding more wood to the growing fire and the sight of his shirtless form, just the sight of him in general had a deeper fire brewing inside of her. Fitz was more blatant about it but Olivia was no stranger to letting her eyes linger on him. She loved to watch him move. He moved with an elegance that reminded her of Old Hollywood swag or a jungle cat on the prowl but sometimes, he would be endearingly goofy, clumsy even.

And he really was a feast for the eyes. He was in his mid 50s but his physique put many of the men her age to shame. Hell, he put a lot of the 20-somethings running around to shame. He was muscled but not in a blatantly artificial way or in a way that said he lived in the gym. He had the body of a person to be one with nature, who loved to be active. He was an outdoors person and a cheerful athlete. Well, with one exception. Fitz _**hated**_ running. He absolutely despised it. In his opinion, running was overrated and it was reserved for when one being chased and then, it depended on who was doing the chasing!

He was big and warm and she particularly enjoyed the fact that he was hairy. Nowadays, men were obsessed with manscaping and some had even gone as far as to have the hair removed permanently, which was fine. Everyone had their preferences but Olivia wanted a man who was unashamed to be himself. She wanted authenticity in all ways and Fitz gave that to her. He gave that to everyone, even when he had to play the Game, cry havoc and let loose the Hounds of Rhetoric...

"You see something you like, Ms. Pope?"

Fitz was the only man on the planet who could get away with being so smug with her, so much of a wise ass. There was just something about that naughty boy gleam that would be in his eyes, the lopsided knowing smirk on his face that softened her ire considerably. She'd banter back but with a playful edge. Occasionally, she'd punch or elbow him if he got particularly fresh but she never put her weight behind it.

"I see someone I love."

He blinked at her matter of fact reply and slowly, Olivia stood up, pulling her damp top over her head. When she came into his reach, Fitz put his hands on her hips, rising up onto his knees so he could kiss her flat abdomen. Olivia sighed quietly and let her right fingers play with his thick wavy hair, her fingertips massaging his scalp in the way he liked. Fitz's fingers slid underneath the waistline of her skirt and Olivia helpfully shifted as he pulled the material down slowly, stepping free of it and kicking it aside.

" _Stand up, baby_."

Fitz obeyed her and Olivia got to work on his belt, smiling to herself at the way his abs clenched when her fingertips would brush against them. He was so responsive, so open with his pleasure. It was intoxicating. He was unashamed to moan for her, to scream for her, to show her and tell her where and how he liked to be touched. Usually, he took the lead in the bedroom but even then, he would let her know.

His belt came off and it joined her skirt on the floor with a soft clink of metal. Before she could reach for the button of his jeans, Fitz lifted her up and Olivia moaned as he placed her on top of the table, stepping in between her legs. His left hand, his _**ringless**_ left hand, went to its usual place between her neck and jaw, tilting her head up. She could barely hear the still falling rain over the sound of her heartbeat and his lips came down on hers ravenously, making both of her hands go into his hair.

All she could do, all she wanted to do was receive him...

 _ **/**_

 **F** itz felt her staring at him and couldn't help but smirk to himself while his back was to her. No one had ever looked at him the way she did. With such appreciation. Such hunger. And when he turned around, he wasn't disappointed at what he saw in her eyes. Her steadfast desire. It stroked his confidence to say the least. To have her look at him like she wanted to devour him. His cock twitched in his jeans.

His smugness melted away when she gave the moment more depth. She saw _**him**_. She loved _**him**_. For who he was. Despite all of their struggles, past, current, and future, Fitz felt so damn lucky that she had chosen him. That they had found each other. Two mangled puzzle pieces that molded together perfectly. There had been plenty of opportunities for both of them to get out, to stay away from each other. And they had tried, each in their own way. The attempts had broken them down and they had learned the hard way that they were meant to be together. He watched her with awe as she shed her blouse, the skin that he knew to be delightfully smooth appearing for his eyes to take in. Her beauty knew no bounds, and the sight of her never failed to take his breath away. She had a way of stunning him, whether she knew it or not.

They worked on undressing each other, but slower than they had ever done so before. Their want was as strong as ever, but the need to rush had faded. Even still, Fitz groaned softly in relief as their lips finally met, as her fingers delved into his damp hair to keep him anchored into her kiss as he craned down over her. Before he could lose himself in her altogether, he reached over to the pile of blankets she had retrieved and grabbed a thick quilt. Pulling away from the kiss reluctantly, he wrapped an arm around her torso and raised her up while he spread the put the folded cloth onto the table to shield her skin from the bite of the wood. Placing her back down, he unclasped her bra and slid it down her arms, setting it aside. His eyes traced over her bare chest and he winced slightly at the deep bruises he had left behind the day before. Marks from his teeth harshly digging into her skin, from his lips sucking hard at her. Claiming her. They spread down from her neck. About ten of them in total. It was a good thing scarf weather was approaching, because there was no hiding some of them.

" _I'm sorry if I was too rough yesterday_ ," he murmured, pressing sweet kisses to each blemish he had left behind.

" _You weren't. It was perfect_ ," she assured him.

He knew she would tell him if he pushed her too far, but he still worried sometimes, especially then as he was looking at the evidence that his passion had caused. Not that she didn't do the same to him, but he didn't care. He'd march around the Oval with a hickey from her proudly if she'd let him.

Once he had made his way to her breasts, his tongue darted out to tease one of her nipples, circling it slowly before taking one into his mouth to gently suck it. Her breath caught and he flicked his gaze up to watch her face as he drew it out, taking his time. He pulled away after a moment and gave her a close-lipped smile before kissing his way across her chest to the opposite breast, giving it the same treatment. When he was finished there, his kisses scattered over her ribcage, moving thoroughly from one side of her to the other. As he moved further down her body, he felt her shiver. His mouth moved over her abdomen, his tongue dipping into her navel, which earned him a breathy moan of his name. He licked a line where the thin fabric of her panties met her skin, placing a wet kiss there before pulling back.

He slid his fingers beneath the cloth at her hips and she lifted, letting him take them down her legs. He shoved them into his back pocket and sat down onto the bench of the table between her parted thighs. Starting at the knee, he trailed kisses and nips up the inner side of her leg, feeling her tremble the closer he got to her sex.

She knew what was to come, and she was aching for it.

So was he.

Before he could get where she wanted him, he stopped and looked up at her. His eyes were filled to the brim with adoration and lust. He held her gaze as his tongue slowly licked up her slit.

 _/_

 **H** er hips jumped at the sweet sensation and his left hand went to her thigh, holding it securely as he continued his ministrations. Although they were heavily lidded, Olivia kept her eyes open and riveted on his. The cerulean slate had darkened to cobalt and the edges of them were crinkled in a smile. Her hand returned to his hair and his face was soon shrouded by her bent knees, buried in her humid heat. When he suckled hard at her clit, her eyes clenched shut and her mouth fell open in the first of many loud moans.

" _ **Fitz**_..."

Fitz adored going down on her. He genuinely enjoyed it and when she had once asked him why (after she scraped together enough brain cells to think coherently again...), he had simply said because he knew that it made her feel good. He wanted her to feel good and cherished and well taken care of by him both in and out of the bedroom.

Olivia's moans took on a gasping tinge as his tongue slid into her pulsing cavity and a pleased growl rumbled in his chest as she held him hostage with her thighs. The bench creaked a bit and she could hear his right hand stroking over the denim covering his groin, see in her mind's eye the way his hips were moving. She wanted his hips moving against hers but she wanted his tongue more. His left hand slid down her leg and she took advantage of the mobility, thrusting up against him with increasing urgency. Picking up on her desire, his tongue was replaced by his fingers and his attention went mainly to her clit, suckling to the rhythm of his plunging, curling, exquisite fingers...

" _ **Fitz!**_ _God, baby,_ _ **yes**_ _..._ "

"... _ **come for me, Livvie**_..."

Her mouth fell open in a silent scream and he licked, lapped, sucked at her until she was whimpering, trying to move away. Both of his hands went to her hips to still her and he stood up slowly, looking at her like she was his last meal. Her nectar stained the lower half of his face and she shivered as he took off his jeans, his boxers going with them. Moving away from the edge of the table, Olivia laid on her back and sighed as Fitz joined her, settling on top of her.

Spotting a bite shaped bruise on his shoulder, she pressed a kiss to it, along with the thin red lines on his tricep from her nails. More thin red lines crisscrossed his back and there were finger tip shaped bruises where his hip met his torso, right on the V. There were also passion marks on his clavicle and she could see one on his left inner thigh. Fitz was covered with evidence of her, evidence that could never be explained away and that gratified her. He was hers in heart and spirit but up until now, his physical body, his name had belonged to another woman, to Mellie who didn't deserve or love him.

Olivia still felt that she didn't deserve him but as certain as the sky was blue, Olivia loved him. She was in love with Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III and now, everyone knew it. Well, almost. They knew how he felt and they knew that Olivia would've never allowed him to be so raw, so open with his feelings if they weren't reciprocated but she still needed to make a statement of her own, a public declaration of her own. She needed to support, to confirm, to stand in her own truth...

" _Livvie?_ "

Her reverie broken, she couldn't help but smile fondly at the concerned expression on his face. Even though they were naked, even though he was steel over silk hard, Fitz was attentive to her mind. He wanted to make love but only if she was okay.

Instead of reassuring him with words, she kissed him tenderly and used her heels to draw his hips forward, to welcome him into her waiting core, to welcome him home...

 _ **/**_

 **T** he sounds of the pouring rain surrounded them as she came undone, bucking against his mouth and fingers as each mind-numbing wave shook her. Her moans blended in with the raging storm. His eyes focused on the erotic way that her body responded to pleasure. Pleasure _ **he**_ provided. Though he had watched her come more times that he could count, the sight would never fail to amaze him and turn him on beyond words. Fitz got more out of giving her pleasure than he did out of receiving his own. He was a natural giver, especially in the bedroom. She always came so quickly when he put his mouth to her, never able to withstand the feel of his tongue and lips for very long. It ended all too soon for him.

Fitz wasn't finished. He hadn't had his fill of her. But she was shifting away from him, like she did when it was both too much and not enough. She needed more from him, and who was he to deny her? He would linger and tease her another time.

He hummed as she delicately kissed some of the war wounds she had left behind. Their bodies were the battlefields of their love, and the evidence of their war had been left behind. They loved with such intensity. Such depth. His love for her was everlasting, even when she hurt him. They were magnets that kept attracting back to each other, strong in bond, capable of destroying everything that tried to wedge between them.

They finally stood a chance at facing the world as a couple.

Fitz always knew when her thoughts were running wild in her head. Distraction was all over her face. Her expression changed, growing distant with her eyes, which could be looking right at him, but not seeing him. She was still analyzing, still fixing, still obsessing over the details. He pushed back the wave of doubt that threatened to creep up on him and drown him, ruining their moment. **She had promised**. That's all he could ask of her.

He didn't return her smile, still wary that she was stuck in the clouds of her mind instead of there with him as his body draped over hers. But when she kissed him, he knew she was still on-board, still willing and accepting of the love he was offering. The love that he had been offering for so long that she was finally seeing for what it was, and accepting it. While he would probably always worry, she had promised to try. To not run. To fight for them alongside him. They had said over and over that they were in it together. Fitz hoped it was _**finally**_ true.

Guiding himself into her, Fitz bit his lower lip as her heat enclosed around him. She wrapped her arms around him automatically and he felt cradled by her body. Comforted. She had a way of doing that. Showing him with her body what she was really feeling. She was there with him. She wasn't running.

He kept still for a moment, buried fully inside of her and cloaking her with his form. Touching from groin to chest. Weight resting on his forearms. His eyes studied her face calmly, his quick heartbeat a contrast to the serenity of the moment. His finger traced gently over her face. Down her nose, over her cheekbone, down her cheek to her chin. And finally, his thumb smoothed over her full lips. She was so elegantly beautiful to him. In every moment. She had her faults, but Fitz loved every part of her. He wanted to be able to love every moment, every sight, and every word with her for the rest of their lives. Letting go wasn't an option anymore. The dedication that they had held for each other had finally risen to the surface and broken through. They were publicly all in.

"I love you so much," he breathed, his hips starting a leisurely rhythm, his lips dropping feather light kisses over every inch of her face.

/

 **S** hivering in a combination of cold, need, and emotion, Olivia leaned into each of his gentle kisses, following his hips in a complementing counter rhythm. It was like a variation of a musical theme, adding depth and volume to a piece, to them in this moment. In this moment and many more to come, she and Fitz were of one mind, one body, one heart. Their breathing fell into sync and she felt tears prick her eyes at the expression on his face as he made love with her. Not to her but with her, they were in it together and rediscovering their tenderness together.

Circumstances had them falling into the pattern of being frenzied, rough, and needy with each other. There was nothing wrong with that. There was absolutely nothing wrong with that but now, they could be as slow as they wanted. They weren't watching the clock or trying to keep quiet so others wouldn't hear, wouldn't interrupt and expose them. There was nothing left to expose, really. Everyone knew the overall truth about them. It was all about filling in the details now and they would do that together. They would communicate. _**She**_ would actually communicate. They would find balance and establish a new normal, a normal free of shadows and full of day to day togetherness, like real couples did. They would work out a way to be the POTUS and the Fixer but still stay Olivia and Fitz, still be themselves and to have a fighting chance.

After all they had been through, after everything _**she**_ had put him through mainly, they deserved to have a fighting chance!

If they were going to go down, they were going to go down swinging. They would fight like hell. That way, win or lose, they could look back on their relationship and really say that they had given it their all to be together.

Grabbing him by his hair, Olivia raised his head and captured his mouth, plundering and greedy. Fitz moaned deeply and melted against her, allowing her to do as she saw fit. She saw fit to use her inner walls to pleasure them both, making him hiss and shake against her, his hips stilling to compensate. He didn't want to finish yet nor did she want him to finish yet. They were making love. They were making love together in their house...well, on the grounds of their house like the both of them had always dreamed of but thought wouldn't happen anytime soon or at all.

" _I...love...you_..." she informed him between kisses to his trembling lips.

The look of delight in his eyes and on his face warmed her to the core and made her press tender kisses to his neck, his shoulder.

Another thing she was determined to work through was her wariness about saying those 3 huge words to him. People threw them around like Frisbees or used them to justify all sorts of hurts, betrayals, slights. Olivia knew that Fitz wasn't like that. When he loved, when he said the words, he meant them from the bottom of his heart and she certainly loved him, too. Sometimes, a lot of times, her actions wouldn't reflect that truth, not to mention some of the words she had hurled at him out of anger and fear but she truly, deeply loved him.

He was the absolute love of her life. She could and would survive without him but she wouldn't _**live**_ , not really. She would just be existing, feeling hollow and incomplete. They were two jagged jigsaw puzzle pieces, two pieces that had been ignored and tossed aside by others but actually fit together. Sometimes, there would be friction. Sometimes, there would be outright war between them but at the end of the day, they fit together and thrived together.

So, he deserved to hear the Words more than once in a blue room. She deserved to be able to say them to him more than once in a blue moon and without prompting. She just wanted to be open with him again. She missed being open with him...

/

 **H** e trembled. Whether from the chill of the air, restraining his pleasure which threatened to build, or the sheer intensity of the moment, he wasn't sure. Fitz was so open to her. Raw. Vulnerable. In ways that he had never been before. He had finally told her of the scars that his heart bore. Wounds she had caused that he had fought hard to stifle for too long. She deserved to know. Just as he deserved the same openness from her. He hoped he would get that. He hoped that she would be able to let her worries and fears spill out, confessing to him the things that he had done to hurt her too. Fitz knew that he had been far from a saint, especially when it came to her, but she had to meet him halfway if they were going to make it. If they were going to stand a chance at survival, it had to be a joint effort. A partnership. And he wanted nothing more than to be her partner. Through thick and thin. Stronger than ever.

And they would be.

They had too much to lose. Their hearts had been at stake before, but never quite so fully.

He took a deep, shaky breath as her lips brushed against his skin. His hips remained still as he soaked in the moment, reveling in it. The feel of her body so perfectly flush against his. Her heat surrounding him. Their breaths mirroring each other, as they often did. The electricity that buzzed where they touched, in the air between them, inside of them as they held onto each other. He kissed a trail along her jaw and nuzzled into the crook of her neck, his breath humid against her as it rested there. Her hands smoothed soothingly over his shoulders and he nodded, feeling all of the words that they didn't need to say soaking from her touch into him and back again in reply.

For the moment, that was enough.

Fitz pressed a single kiss to her collar and pulled back to look at her. Blinking, his eyes let the tears that had been gathering in their depths spill and drop down onto her. As he met her kiss again, his breath caught in his throat, the emotions he felt threatening to choke him. His hips resumed their rhythm, his thrusts slow but deep and firm, matching their kisses. The light hair on his torso stroked her skin as he moved, her hands moving to the back of his head to anchor their kiss. To keep them anchored to the moment. Never wanting it to end. If Fitz could remain joined with her like that, enclosed in their own intimacy forever, he would. He had never felt so complete.

Whimpering into the kiss, his thrusts increased in speed, only slightly. He pulled from her lips to catch a breath, panting softly.

" _Baby_ …" he murmured as he gazed into her eyes, a full-body shiver running through him.

 _ **/**_

 **O** livia nodded in agreement and thrust up against him, squeezing her walls even tighter. She was enjoying their tenderness but the need between her legs, the heat in her belly was demanding him to go faster, harder, deeper. She wanted to come and she wanted him to come with her. She wanted to feel his satisfaction, his love inside of her. Her hands were on his back now and their kiss broke as she moaned out, her toes curling. Fitz moved that way again and she shuddered as his lips went to the hypersensitive skin behind her left ear.

He blazed a trail of hot kisses downwards and she mustered enough strength to sit up, holding him to her tightly. The center of her back could fit in his whole right hand and he supported her. When she allowed him to, Fitz always supported her, both in and out of the bedroom. His brow rested on hers and his lips were parted, quivering and swollen from her kisses. Olivia used her teeth to tug gently at his lower lip and he looked at her. Every bit of emotion he was feeling blazed within his fevered eyes. He loved her. He needed her. He wanted her. He was hers. Whatever she wanted, he would do it. Whatever she wanted, he would get it for her.

His whole heart, his whole life belonged to her and he was trusting her again. He was trusting her not to run, not to hurt, not to do all the bad things she had done to ruin them in the past. He wasn't disregarding the past or ignoring his misgivings. He just wanted to move forward. She had said that there was hope and had finally acted in accordance with those words so he was moving forward with her, with them. It was as simple as that.

Olivia both admired and envied his ability to do that. She wanted to be able to do it, too. Could she learn how to do it or was the ability, the deep faith and capacity to forgive just something a person was born with? How did he do it?

She'd ask him later... _ **much**_ later...

Anchoring herself to the now, Olivia grabbed a fistful of his waves and jerked his head back enough she had free access to his neck. She had already clawed his back. She had already scratched his arms. She had already bitten his clavicle and shoulders. There were fingertip shaped bruises and light scratches on his hips and behind. His neck was virtually untouched, unblemished, unclaimed...

" _ **Livvie!**_ "

Delighted by his hoarse shout, Olivia continued suckling hard at his skin, moaning as his hips lost their measured rhythm. Yes, yes, yes...that was what she wanted. She wanted to feel him, all of him, feel all of his passion for her. And there would be no hiding the mark on his neck. It would be visible, even if he was completely buttoned up and Presidential. Everyone would see it and everyone would know it came from her. Not Mellie, not Amanda, not Jeannine, or some other real or manufactured other woman in his life... _ **her**_. Olivia Carolyn Pope was marking him and he was loving it, loving her openly and freely like he had always wanted, like she had always wanted but had felt so unworthy of.

She was worthy.

She wasn't perfect. She could no longer claim to wear the White Hat and she had fallen in love with a married man. She wasn't perfect. She would never be perfect...

But, she _**was**_ worthy. She was worthy of joy. She was worthy of peace. She was worthy to have real love and to love in return.

She was...she was...

 _"_ _ **Fitz**_ _...Fitz, I'm gonna..."_

 _"_ _ **Please."**_

The only lover who could make her scream, the only man who could fulfill her emotionally and physically enough to make her scream in bliss was Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III.

And she did.

 _ **/**_

 **F** itz's hands gripped her tightly, holding her to him as he roared his release. His hips bucked wildly, out of rhythm, hard, and finally giving out as their cries of pleasure died down. He cradled her in his arms, his face molded into the dip where her neck met her shoulder, panting.

"Baby...you know I'm not a scarf guy. I assume you want me parading around with your love bite?" he asked with a wide grin, his breathlessness starting to fade.

The firm sucking of her mouth on his neck had amplified his pleasure, sending him to a height he had never quite felt before. They both knew that his neck was sensitive. His body easily responded when she touched him there. With her lips lightly kissing him. Her nails biting into the nape by his hairline. Her hands grasping him there to anchor herself.

But she had never marked him like that before. With such certainty. Such recklessness. She was claiming him. Fully. Claiming their narrative and jumping in with both feet. Maybe she was really willing to play the long game this time.

Maybe she was finally through running. He was so tired of chasing her…

" **You're mine** ," she confirmed.

"I'm yours," he agreed, giving her a soft smile.

Shivering, Fitz reached across the table behind her and grabbed another blanket off of the pile, wrapping it around their naked bodies. They would wait out the rain, much like what they had been doing when the left DC for a few days. They would weather the storm together.

They were finally ready.

He kissed her lazily as they rested in each other's arms, side by side. Cocooned in the embrace, sheltered by the quilt around them. The rain started to die down. The fire crackled in the hearth. It was true peace for them. Something they had never felt before.

"It's not going to be this easy when we get back, Livvie," he warned her.

"I know."

"Don't give up on me, okay? We can do this if we stick together."

"We can," she agreed. " **We will.** "


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: It's a long and winding and pretty damned ugly road for Olivia and Fitz, now. On the television and according to Twitter leaks and speculation, the road seems to be leading to a long breakup with new suitors between our mass OTP until the last minutes of the Season ala Scandal's Season 4 (and Grey's Anatomy's Season 4 MerDer, for that matter…The Creator just** _ **loves**_ **to recycle bad ideas, doesn't she?!) so the show doesn't get cancelled but as for this story, as for HandsUp and I, we are writing the Olitz that we should've gotten in 5A.**

 **This is officially a Fix-It fic for Season 5 and beyond. Even if (better be fucking** _ **WHEN!**_ **) things get put right for Liv, Fitz, and Olitz in 5B, there was a better way of doing things with #OlitzAtLast and we're going to provide it and more. This is another long one but it'll be worth the read. Sit back and enjoy the chapter and more will come from us as soon as we can.**

 **Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

 _ **"...still no word from Senator Melody Grant's office, the Junior Virginia Senator herself, or from Former White Chief of Staff, Cyrus Beene..."**_

 _ **"... inside sources say that Marine One was spotted in a heavily guarded private hangar at Burlington International Airport...President Grant and Olivia Pope may have spent their weekend in Vermont, New Hampshire or in Quebec..."**_

 _ **"...images of Olivia Pope and President Grant's walk to Marine One have been the most searched and saved in America and Europe according to Google and the official video on YouTube reached 10 million hits at Midnight EST..."**_

 _ **"It's been 4 days and the hash tags #OlitzRevealed, #OliviaPope, #FTGIII, #GrantDivorce, #PoorMellie, #TeamOlitz, #TeamMellie, and #ImpeachGrant are still among the top 10 in 20 countries... today a new Pope and POTUS hash tag has spread throughout the Black Twitter community succinctly asking what we're all dying to know: #DoesPopeLovePOTUSTooOrNah..."**_

 _ **"#TeamOlitz, #TeamMellie, or #Team I Don't Give a (bleep): call in with your opinions, folks because that's all we're talking about today and tomorrow..."**_

 _ **"...some are hailing this as the biggest romance story since Edward VIII and Wallis Simpson, others are saying that it's Jefferson and Hemmings all over again or a side chick's ultimate wet dream..."**_

 _ **"On Friday afternoon, President Fitzgerald Grant III confessed to the American and International audiences that he loves her but how does Olivia Pope feel about him? What are her future plans? Her actions are saying that the feelings are reciprocated but she has yet to say anything herself..."**_

 _ **"Senator Edison Davis' office and the man himself have declined to comment on the unfolding story..."**_

 _ **"Jeannine Locke confessed on Saturday afternoon via Facebook that her bedside sizzler book '**_ **Taken for Granted'** _ **is a fabrication but who encouraged and paid her to go forward with her story? Was it a senior member of the Grant Administration, Olivia Pope, or someone else... the book is now being marketed and sold as a fictional romance novel ala E.L. James'**_ **50 Shades of Grey** _ **..."**_

 _ **"Olivia Pope and Associates' doors are still open but for how much longer? Olivia Pope has been seen as the best Fixer in the land for years but can she Fix herself? Can she weather this storm well enough to maintain and grow her Client base? None of her associates have spoken to the Press yet..."**_

* * *

" **W** e'll be at OPA in 20 minutes, sir."

"Tell everyone to leave the sirens off and to and head for the back entrance, Kevin."

" **No.** We're going in the front. Sirens and all. Let the rest of the Motorcade know."

"Are...are you sure, Ms. Pope?"

"Absolutely."

"Sir?"

"...you heard her."

After the new orders were confirmed, they were immersed in a cloud of flashing lights and wailing sirens. The Beast picked up speed as they all parted traffic. At a red light, she looked out of the lightly tinted bullet proof glass and could see people on the sidewalk gaping and pointing. The Motorcade had two motorcycles leading in the front, two SUVs in front of The Beast, two behind it, an ambulance, and they had picked up a police escort at DC's city limits.

Olivia picked up her phone and sent a text to Quinn to be ready to let them in, getting an immediate all caps ' **CONSIDER IT HANDLED!** ' from not just her but Huck, too. That made her smile. They hadn't left. Both of them could've if they wanted to. Huck was B613 and apparently Quinn was, too. They had all sorts of skills, including the ability to evade circling Media sharks and go to ground. The fact that they hadn't, the fact that they were still there and in her corner (at least for the time being...) was comforting.

Reaching in her purse, she pulled out her compact mirror to inspect her lipstick. It was bold cherry red and none of it was on her teeth. She unzipped her black leather jacket and her aviators went back in their case. Instead of her usual corporate casual attire in cool neutrals, Olivia was in the sunshine yellow long sleeved v-neck sweater Fitz had put in their master suite closet, a pair of dark wash skinny jeans Abby had given her as a gag gift and a pair of 4 inch black lace up platform booties, the peep toe revealing a pedicure that matched her sweater.

She had put in her white diamond studs, polished Doux Bebe, their Ring, until it appeared to glow from within and another thing that would shock the Sharks would be her hair. Instead of having it bone straight and styled to hide her face, she had let it dry into its natural state of mane like coils and a gold headband held it back. Her entire outfit screamed of confidence. It was feminine but with a bad ass edge and sent up a subtle but potent middle finger to her critics.

 _ **Yes**_ , she was young. _**Yes**_ , she was black. _**Yes**_ , she was beautiful. She was capable of looking pretty and still being a businesswoman. She was capable of being The Fixer and the President's Girlfriend. **She could have it all and flaunt it all.**

That didn't mean that she didn't care about what they thought about her anymore because she certainly did but their opinions, the Worst Case Scenario of slut shaming and digs at her Race, would no longer make her cower, make her sabotage and destroy.

It was a new day. It was a new Era.

She was still Olivia Pope but now, she would become a more balanced and layered Olivia Pope.

 **She would be a Woman in love with an incredible Man, openly and unrepentantly.**

"Livvie?"

She turned her head and met his gaze head on. His face was surprised but there was a smile in his wide beautiful cerulean slate eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Why?"

"This is what reality is, now. We can't avoid it so we might as well hit the ground running."

"Take control of the narrative. We can't stop the sharks from circling but we _**can**_ decide what they get to chew on."

"Exactly."

Fitz finally grinned like a loon and she couldn't help but giggle, shaking her head at their situation, at the audacity they were showing. The President and his "Mistress" were coming out in public again and Olivia knew that their Friday afternoon South Lawn exit would be overshadowed by their grand Monday morning entrance. They pulled up across the street from OPA and the Media was already heading for them fast, intercepted by Secret Service and law enforcement. Reaching, she straightened his blue and gray striped tie and they both looked out into the street, into the path that was cleared to the door.

"Ready?" he asked her.

She was sitting on the side closest to the street so she would be the one to open the door, to exit The Beast first.

"No...but let's do it, anyway."

And with that, she opened the door.

 _ **/**_

Even in the daytime, the flashes of the cameras that went off were bright enough for her to see spots in her vision and Olivia kept her head up high and her face calm. She was not a scared and hiding little girl under the bed. She was a scared but resolute grown woman in the Arena. She was Olivia Pope. She was Olivia fucking Pope and she would not run away anymore. She would not cower. She was a Gladiator! Gladiators were strong and brave. Gladiators fought to the end, one way or the other!

Fitz emerged from The Beast and they stood side by side in the street. His black coat blew in the breeze, a breeze that was starting to hold a hint of a chill within it, and she looked up at him. He was in a navy blue Brooks Brothers suit and a snow white dress shirt. His salt and pepper hair was combed neatly and his left hand was still unadorned, the tan line already fading into nothing but a distant horrible memory. He turned his head to look back at her and her lips curved upwards in a soft smile.

Fitz had to be as terrified as she was but he still had that relaxed joy about within his body language, the bone deep relief of having their Secret out. He no longer had to hide her away in the shadows. If he wanted to and if she would let him, he could scream that he was in love with her from the highest rooftops, jump on top of every interviewer's couch for her like a love (and just plain) crazy Tom Cruise did for Katie Holmes that day on **Oprah**.

She would not let him do that ever, especially the couch thing, but the freedom, the options that were now open to him and her were intoxicating. Even with her lingering terror, the freedom to stand beside the man she loved in broad daylight made giddy bird sized butterflies erupt in her stomach.

In response to her smile, he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead and waited patiently for her next move, trusting her so fully, so freely again! She would do her utmost to make sure that it wasn't in vain again. Silently, she offered him her hand and he took it immediately, entwining their fingers. As if they were a pair of high school sweethearts, Olivia started forward and Fitz walked right by her side, sending the assembled reporters into a frenzy of shouted questions and **Live** updates to whatever station they reported to. The President and his Mistress, The President of the United States and Olivia Pope were walking together, visibly calm.

Olivia could only imagine the look on Mellie's face, on Cyrus' face, on Rowan's face in the prison he was rotting in. Every second of her and Fitz being so blatantly together had to be torturous for them, agony to all of their delicate sensibilities, fire to all of their carefully laid plans and Olivia suppressed the urge to cackle like a madwoman.

Just **The Whore** , was she?

Just **The Help** , was she?

Just **a stupid little girl** that they had to save from her own folly, was she?

 **No.** Not anymore, not ever again.

Things had changed.

It was a new day and a new Game.

The three of them and all of those who dared to look down on her, who had dared to use her as a puppet to their whims could go fuck themselves.

 **She was out of their cage, out of their control, and they would never manipulate her again.**

 _ **Ever!**_

 _ **/**_

 **H** e wasn't sure he had ever felt freer in his life than he did in that moment. He felt light. They were embracing the secret they had kept for so long and he reveled in the very public togetherness. It was new and it would take some getting used to, but it felt good. It felt hopeful. It felt like home.

 **It was what he had been waiting for.**

The press, in all forms, had been buzzing with every possible story regarding the two of them. Their past, present, and future were being discussed and speculated about by every major, and minor, press platform. Social media was frenzied. The negative opinions were somehow balanced out by a surprising amount of positivity and support. But it was still chaos. Fitz could only imagine what was going on in Olivia's head. Her Fixer tendencies were certainly struggling and fighting to get out. He was proud. So far, she had held to her promise. **She was trying.**

She was allowing him, and the World, to see her for who she was. The woman that hid behind her well-tailored business attire was a pillar of walking confidence in her casual wear, even her hair in its natural state. Fitz loved seeing a different side of her. He knew that there were layers that even he had yet to see and he was looking forward to the unveiling. It was a new world they were living in. **A new them.**

It would bring out parts of them, details that hadn't had a reason to be known before in the previous context of their relationship. They were head over heels in love, but it was like they were just beginning their relationship in some ways. Odd, but still comforting. They were going to grow together and watch as they flourished, both as individuals and as a couple. It was so different for them, but Fitz couldn't wait to continue their journey.

 **Together.**

He had it _**so**_ bad for her. The simple act of holding her hand as they walked on the sidewalk had his heart racing. It was like his first high school love all over again, but this time for real. This time the girl has all of him. His whole heart. His whole body.

 **He belonged to her.**

And now everyone knew it.

The reporters that all but surrounded them were shouting out questions. They got louder as they got closer to the entrance of the building. The World wanted to know more about them. They wanted to see if it was true. If the love between them was worth Fitz offering his resignation. If it was worth ruining his image. If it was worth giving up his career.

It was.

 _ **"Ms. Pope! How does it feel to be the First Girlfriend?"**_

 _ **"Is that a hickey, Mr. President?"**_

 _ **"C'mon, let's see a kiss!"**_ _ **  
**_  
Suddenly, he felt Olivia stop walking. She tugged on his wrist gently, pulling him back to her. They made eye contact for a moment, his expression questioning. Her hand grasped his tie and she gave him a little smirk as she pulled him down to her and _ **kissed him**_. **Right on the mouth, in broad daylight, rising up on her tiptoes, Olivia kissed all 6'2, 210 pounds of US President Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III, and he let her.**

Cheering and rapid camera shutters filled the air. He cupped her face in his left hand and grasped her hip, drawing her flush against him. The kiss deepened mutually and Fitz briefly teased her by slipping his tongue between her parted lips. He stroked her tongue just a few times as they continued to kiss, relighting the fire that they had burned all weekend in Vermont. She hummed softly and pulled away, even though he knew she was just getting warmed up. They were both grinning at each other, happy for reasons that the cameras and microphones couldn't possibly understand.

For the first time, they were able to exist as a unit out of hiding. Fitz knew as he looked into her eyes that she felt it too. The weight lifting from them as they got a taste of the freedom that they had finally allowed themselves to have. A freedom that they had never known. A freedom Fitz hoped she would grow to love. He wondered if she was afraid. If she could still be spooked away by the pressure of being a couple out in the open. He hoped her promise meant as much to her as it did to him. The very public kiss that she had initiated told him, told his Gut, that it meant everything.

Fitz chuckled and moved his arm up to wrap around her torso, tucking her into his side and guiding her over to the door. The sounds of the Media became muffled as Secret Service ushered them into the lobby of the building. He held her to his side as they waited for the elevator, both silent, both taking in the realization of what they had just done. Fitz couldn't wipe the smirk from his face now that they were out of the public eye.

The elevator doors opened and he let her step inside first and followed behind her. As soon as the elevator doors closed and they started to move upward, Fitz wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a kiss that held even more passion than the one for the cameras.

/

 **S** he never thought that she would be able to do this.

Not only was she kissing Fitz in public, in broad daylight, now she was doing it in her place of business. She had always tried to keep a strict separation between her life in the White House, her life with Fitz, and her life with OPA. Of course, those efforts had a tendency to prove to be futile but she had come a long way. Olivia remembered when the mere threat of him coming to OPA was enough to send her into a mix of rage and panic, leading to that faithful confrontation in the Oval. She had gone in with guns blazing, demanding that he earn her, and once he had, she had (once again) sabotaged and ruined their progress forward. She had run away. She had hidden underneath her White Hat and walked away, ran away and had started an awful chain of events, the most awful chain of events!

But, now, things were different. She was still scared, still terrified to be with Fitz openly but she was no longer running away from him, from all of the big emotions that he provoked in her. Running away hadn't worked. Running away only made things worse for the both of them, along with other people they had dragged into their mess. Running away had caused bitter tears, wanton bloodshed, and deep despair, despair that had almost broken their bond for good. Running away was no longer an option so now, she was running _**to**_ him, holding onto him as tightly as he held onto her...

She really had come a long way.

She still had quite a ways to go but Olivia couldn't help be proud of herself.

As the elevator began to slow down, Fitz broke the kiss but kept close to her. Her knees were wobbling and she had a fistful of his coat, her other hand resting heavily on the nape of his neck. His hands slid underneath her jacket and spanned her middle easily, his brow resting on hers. The doors began to open and she kissed him again, slow and uncaring about who would witness it. A hand rested on the left elevator door, holding it open until the fire alarm began to buzz and Olivia ended the kiss, looking at the hand's owner.

Much to her surprise, she was looking at a bemused Marcus Walker and a visibly amused yet disgusted Leo Bergen next to him.

"All right, all right, we get it. You two are in love and you give no damns. Wonderful. Come out of there. You're a fire hazard and we've got a lot of work to do before sundown."

Fitz nodded and went ahead of them into the conference room. Olivia could already see that the frosted glass window wall was covered in a thick collage of photographs, articles, and documents. Dead in the center of the collage were three large pictures. On the left was the official shot of her that had been on her White House staff badge, on the right was the official Presidential portrait of Fitz, and smack in the middle was the Money Shot of them about to enter Marine One.

"What are you doing here, Leo? What are you both doing here?"

"Red said that if I ever wanted her to do the butter thing again, I had to get my ass over here and help you clean up your Presidential mess STAT. As for R. Kelly here, I have no clue but Chipmunk let him in last night so I guess he's cool."

"R. Kelly, really?"

"You were trapped in the closet while the married chick you banged got shanked, weren't you?"

"Whatever...I'm here because I need a job and also because I owe you one, Pope. You helped me when no one else would and I'm not going to sit around and let a sister get dragged through the mud just because she fell in love with the right person at the wrong time. That's bullshit."

Olivia mulled that over and then shrugged before she headed for the open double doors, removing her jacket as she moved.

"Keep in mind that it's going to be a while before I can pay either of you but I... _ **we**_ need all the help we can get. Thank you."

"Like I said, I owed you one."

"I'll bill you later. All right, kiddies, gather round because now that Mommy and Daddy are back from their honeymoon, the real work can begin!"

Huck was typing on one of his laptops at the head of the table and Quinn gave her a small smile as she came in from her office with a stack of black folders.

"Jake went on a food run. He'll be back in 20."

Olivia couldn't hold back a sigh of relief at that. She knew that eventually she and Jake would have to talk but the longer she could put it off, the better. Knowing him as she did, he was going to be upset with her, possibly angry enough to put his hands on her again. Jake had said that he wanted her to be happy, that she was owed happiness but her Gut, a Gut that was slowly but surely beginning to work properly again, told her that he had said that with the expectation of her choosing _**him**_ to be with. Sadly, it wasn't a completely unrealistic expectation. She had used Jake as a surrogate, as a safe substitute for the man she truly loved and wanted more than once.

Past patterns indicated that she would do it again.

She had been willing to do it again until Jake had said what he said at her apartment door. She had been willing to settle again and Jake had been willing to be used again, was probably hoping for it. After all, he had gone to jail for her and helped her put Rowan away. The fact that he had gone against Rowan at all indicated a high level of bravery albeit blended with self preservation. He said that he was doing it all for the sake of the right thing and for revenge against Rowan for all the pain he had caused as Command but Olivia wouldn't put it past him to have expected a more personal thank you from her. After all, Rowan had trained him and Russell to see her as nothing more than an objective to be filled, a little girl that they could easily distract with sex and escapist fantasies. For a time, she had allowed herself to fill that role but now...

Fitz came up behind her and she allowed him to take her jacket, draping it over the table next to his coat and suit jacket. His sleeves were rolled up and she knew that eventually, his tie would be off and his top buttons undone. He always did that during late nights on The Trail and in the Oval. He was ready to pull an all nighter, multiple all nighters, if necessary. He was ready to fight for them.

She was ready to fight by his side.

"What do we have so far?"

"What we have is a Mess but one that's not impossible to Spin. The President gave you guys a boost up by pretty much becoming a modern day Arthur Dimmesdale but without the whole dying part...what? Are you surprised that I read? **The Scarlet Letter** is a classic and it fits the situation perfectly. Anyway, his Press Conference has already started the only narrative that can get you both through this with your lives intact: _**Olivia and Fitz- a Love like No Other: from Secret Star Crossed Lovers to Public Power Couple.**_ It's not just about sex on the Resolute, it's about love and it's real. Olivia, you need to get out there and sell that. You need to let everyone see your side of the story and that you love him, too. You _**do**_ love him too, don't you?"

"Very much so."

"Wonderful because if you didn't, then the President would have no choice but to take Jay Gatsby's place in history as the ultimate SIMP. What's with the looks? I read and I keep up with pop culture, all right? You've gotten off to a good start. You did the South Lawn walk and you just gave him a tonsillectomy outside. You're holding hands and smiling at each other like a couple of lovesick morons. You're wearing bright colors and jeans, something that the old Olivia Pope would never do, and the hickey on his neck's a nice touch. Mr. President..."

"Fitz."

"Fitz, where's your wedding ring?"

"I'm not sure. Liv took it off on Thursday and threw it someplace. I'm not allowed to put it back on and I don't want to."

"Seriously? You seriously did that?"

"Yes. He's mine. He has been for the last 6 years and the only reason that we're not married with our 5th kid on the way is because I've been a coward and an idiot."

"Livvie..."

"I'm not saying that you didn't contribute to us being apart, Fitz but you know I'm right."

"There has to be a better way of putting it. I don't like you tearing yourself down like that."

Olivia smiled sadly at that and turned back to the collage, really taking it in. There were articles dating back to The Trail and more of the photographs. There was a shot of them dancing at the State Dinner. There was a shot of them standing at Verna's coffin. There was even a shot of them during his Inauguration ceremony. She was smiling right at him and he was looking at her with childlike glee, knowing that she was proud of him. Tabloid articles from the last few days had eye catching headlines such as **'OHHHH-Livia'** , **'Here We Hoe Again'** , **'Olivia Poke', 'Grant's** **Groupie'** and **'POTUS Got Poped'**. Old pictures of her during her 'Party Girl Pope' days were up there, along with pictures of Fitz with Jeannine, Amanda, and Mellie. Mellie...

"What's the status on Mellie, Huck?"

"She's booked a suite at the Hay-Adams and while she still hasn't said anything to the Media, Cyrus Beene joined her there on Saturday morning. They're probably working together."

"That makes sense. Fitz fired him. I told him to go to hell when he called me looking for help so Mellie's his only option. He's the one to really focus on. Mellie talks a good game and she's got some support but she'll end up hanging herself on her own noose. She always does. Cyrus is dangerous. He'll say and do _**anything**_ to get revenge against us, even if it means that he shoots himself in the ass."

"I can take care of him."

" **No, you can't.** There's been enough bloodshed. No one else is dying or getting maimed unless there's no other option."

"Liv..."

" **No.** **No more wet work. Find another way or get out!** "

Huck looked taken aback at her words but Olivia looked at him placidly. She understood that Huck was violent. He had been trained and honed to be a walking weapon. She understood that Huck was off in the head. All of them were in some way, especially nowadays. She understood that he was only trying to help her in the best way he knew how but she was serious.

OPA had gotten too deep into the Spy business and she was sick of feeling directly or indirectly responsible for someone's death. She was sick of smelling blood in the air, seeing it in her dreams, and feeling it on her hands, no matter how hard she scrubbed at them. Olivia knew that she couldn't go back. She couldn't undo the choices she made that had led to other people making the choice to kill or injure but she could start a new pattern with herself and her people. **No more wet work**.

"We'll figure it out, Liv." Quinn assured her. "What we need is ammunition. What can we use against her?"

 _ **/**_

 **T** he fact that they could show such affection outside of closed doors showed that their life had finally taken a turn towards what Fitz had wanted for years. Their life, the merging of business and pleasure, had finally begun. He felt a giddiness fluttering deep in his stomach at the thought.

It would be intriguing to see her interact with her staff, new and old members. He had seen her in Fixer mode, expertly handling the stickiest and most scandalous situations. But seeing her directly interact with her team and handle their situation, with his input and involvement for a change, would be an adventure. He was so glad that she wasn't shutting him out this time. She was letting him assist her in the way they approached their relationship in regards to the public view and their careers. Finally, they could call themselves a team, and he hoped that they would continue as one, hand in hand as they faced the obstacles for the rest of their lives.

As Fitz took in the collage of articles and photos, he remembered the moments featured in each of them.

The captured moment during his Inauguration Ceremony was a surprise. When he had been sworn into office and the applause thundered around him, Fitz had looked to her for approval. His grin had matched hers. Her pride in him had meant the world and it was obvious in the photo. The image still moved him as he looked at it. It proved to him that so many seemingly private moments between them had not been so. How many other moments like that, subtle but meaningful, had been caught?

They had stood together at Verna's funeral. Not that she hadn't already been knocking on death's door, but Fitz had escorted her through it. Not his proudest moment, but he had been preserving the legacy that she, that the group of them, had forced on him. They had made him President, and he didn't want to go down for their sins. But the way he had spoken to Olivia that day. She had finally agreed to wait for him. She had said the words aloud when before they had only been implied. And he had shut her down. His wounds from the knowledge of Defiance had been so fresh. Then, he had felt like she didn't believe in him enough for him to earn the votes on his own. But he knew that she had done it because she believed in what he could do in office. No matter how misguided it may have been, she had done it out of love.

Dancing with her at the State Dinner during his first term: she had scolded him so cutely that night, reminding him that they were in public. But his eyes wouldn't leave her. He had been so tired of being away from her, of being without her. But that was all over. The shot of them walking on the South Lawn headed for the helicopter proved that. The shot still took his breath away. It was real. They were really doing it. They were united, and that was all that Fitz had ever wanted. He wondered how long it would take for that realization to lose its shock. He wondered if it ever would.

At the mere mention of Jake, Fitz's hackles rose. He didn't want his former friend anywhere near Olivia. Even after their talk in the orchard, his jealousy regarding Jake's involvement in Olivia's life was thriving. The past made him wary. She had dropped him before in favor of a seemingly less stressful relationship with Ballard.

 **He wouldn't let it happen again.**

The thought of it made his skin flush and he shrugged off his jacket and suit coat, draping them over the edge of the conference table. As he listened to the discussion, he rolled up his sleeves to further cool himself. It would do no good to go into it hot-headed. Besides, he _**definitely**_ had the upper hand.

She had chosen _**him.**_ She had showed up on the balcony. She had promised to be more open so they could make it work.

Fitz stifled a chuckle at Huck's willingness to 'take care' of Cyrus. It didn't surprise him that there were people who wanted Cyrus dead or who were at least willing to make it happen. Cyrus was a political monster. He had left a path of scorned people behind in his climb to shape Fitz's presidency. The man should choose his moves more carefully if he wanted to stay alive. Olivia swatted at him responsively without even looking or saying a word. The gesture was effortless. As if she had done it a hundred times and would do it again just as many. It was done with a sense of intimate normalcy that he adored.

He might find the thought of Cyrus being maimed amusing but she was right. Too many people had died or been harmed in some way. Because of their relationship. Because of Cyrus. Because of Mellie. It was time for it to end. He stood beside her and wrapped his arm around her to hold her hip, pressing a supportive kiss to her hairline.

"She's right, Huck. As much as we'd all like to maim and torture Cyrus Beene, we need to take a different direction with this. There has been enough of that in the past. We'll do this as clean and concise as we can. I was planning on divorcing Mellie before Olivia came to the White House. That only reassured me that it was the right thing to do. I'm tired of her selling pieces of my soul to keep me in office and build her future. She induced labor with Teddy to manipulate me away from Olivia. Karen caught her on her knees with Andrew. She provided the information that got those jurors killed. Her conscience has no boundaries, so I dare her to try to call me out for falling in love with Olivia."

Mellie had been a menace to his character. She brought out the worst in him. She manipulated him to shape their narrative. It was time for Fitz and Olivia to claim their own future and it was truly theirs for the taking.

He looked over at her affectionately, his expression softening. They had a lot ahead of them. A battle plan to form against their likely enemies. But when he looked at her, he knew that anything they would face would be worth it. She reached over and stroked his cheek and he smiled softly.

Leo nodded thoughtfully.

"So she's a power hungry, manipulative whore. We can work with that."

"So what is the Endgame? What are we trying to do specifically here? Do you want Congress to accept your offer to resign or are you hoping to finish out your term? We can make either option happen."

"I'd like to finish my term, even if they push for impeachment. I've made it this far despite the mudslinging. I want to finish strong." He paused, remembering that he wasn't the only one involved in the decision. "Livvie?"

He looked at her with the question in his eyes. He wanted to know what she wanted to do. They were moving forward together. If she wanted him to quit, if she wanted him to give it all up, he would. He had tried to do it before, but she hadn't let him. Things were clearly different. They were both **All In** , willing to move forward with no reservations. Her opinion mattered.

Her head nodded in agreement.

"We try to keep you in the Oval, but if it doesn't happen..."

"...then we settle down in Vermont a little earlier than planned," he finished with a cheeky grin that made her laugh.

/

" **N** ow, is Vermont a code for something or like an actual...?"

"Fitz and I have an estate there. I didn't know about it until two winters ago but that's where we were over the weekend and where we'll be based when it's all said and done. No, he didn't use taxpayer money to buy the land or to pay for the construction. It all came from his personal funds. Everything up there is under my name so Mellie can't try to stake a claim on it under California's divorce laws."

"Would she even _**want**_ to? I mean, it's Vermont, not Manhattan or L.A. What the hell is in Vermont other than maple syrup?"

"It's not about location, it's all about spite, Leo. Mellie's going to do any and everything she can to put the screws to Fitz because she is just that hateful. She would try to get it just so she can burn it down. Plus, the house and land have got to be worth at least 8 million dollars..."

"It's worth 18.6 million, give or take an acre."

"Seriously?"

"That was the last estimate I got from the realtor but I'm sure that it's worth more, now. It's been a couple of years."

"Damn. So, you took your own time and money and built a 20 million dollar love nest to share with her?"

"Mm-hm."

"You really _**do**_ love her, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Fitz, I don't know whether to call you batshit insane or the world's biggest romantic. I'll probably go with both. I take it that you also gave her a priceless family heirloom from deep within the Grant Family Vaults to go with the love nest?"

"Well..."

"I was _**joking**_! What's _**wrong**_ with you, man? Don't you have any middle gears? What did you give her? What did he give you, Olivia?"

Immediately, Olivia held up her left hand and let Leo examine her index finger under the lights.

"What's the story and how did she get it?"

"The Ring was my Great Grandmother Annette's. It's very old, very rare, and it has a name. Doux Bebe. It means 'Sweet Baby' in French, which makes sense because her father bought it for her in Paris as a gift for her debutante ball. She gave it to me on her deathbed and made me promise that I'd only give it to the woman that I truly loved."

"So, it's a family heirloom promise ring?"

"That's the most straightforward way of putting it. The Ring came before Vermont. I've had it since right before Cyrus' wedding to James Novak. I've only taken it off twice in the last 4 years and those circumstances were bad, to say the least. The only way it's coming off again is if someone cuts my finger off and I really hope that doesn't happen anytime soon or at all."

 _ **/**_

 **O** f course, there was more in Vermont than maple syrup. Their future was there. Acres and acres of pasture and orchards. The house he had designed, in which they would dwell for the rest of their days once his term was through. Their love would take root there. Vermont would be their resting place. The calm after the storm that they were still wading through. The waters high and treacherous. Vermont, with its lush fields and cool breezes, was home. Fitz wouldn't let Mellie try to spoil that for them. He would burn the estate down himself before he allowed her to get her selfish, bitter hands on it. As far as he knew, she had no knowledge of the place at all. He had gone extra lengths to ensure that she knew nothing about it when it was being built. Lots of hushed phone calls from his private office, going over detailed construction plans and ordering specific materials.

But they were back in DC...and Fitz missed the serenity that Vermont offered them already.

"Alright, I have to ask. What was Mellie's knowledge of your affair before you declared it to the entire world?"

"She had known about it for a long time. Maybe even from the start."

"Interesting...and she protected the secret for that long?"

"As long as it was something she could use to her advantage, it was a secret worth keeping. She has used my relationship with Fitz to bend both of us to do her bidding."

"That's a big part of why I decided to go public. As long as the affair was a secret, Mellie could hold it over our heads to get what she wanted. I was tired of her having that control over us."

"Makes sense. You took back the power. Does she know about the Ring?"

Doux Bebe was the first of many gifts that he intended on giving her. Fitz would make up for lost time. He planned on spoiling Olivia absolutely rotten. She was, after all, his great love. His light. The strings that held him together. That was why he had given her his grandmother's ring. It was the fulfillment of his promise. He truly loved Olivia. She deserved to be cherished in the best ways. All of the ways that were ready and waiting for her. Romantic gestures came naturally to Fitz and he had been forced to stifle them for too long. He was more than ready to give her every ounce of the love that he held for her in his heart. Being loved wasn't something that she had truly experience, he knew. It would be his duty to shower her with adoration. To show her what it meant to love and be loved in return.

"Honestly, I don't know. It's possible."

They all took a seat at the long conference table.

"Okay, so...love nest, promise ring, and a controlling soon-to-be ex wife. Anything else that could come up? Not that this isn't going to be difficult enough..."

" **I went to war for her**."

He said it suddenly, and the confession seemed to take all of the air from the room. He felt Olivia look away from him and he remembered how angry she had been with him when she had found out what he had done for her sake. It wasn't a proud moment for either of them, but it was relevant. The tracks either had been or could be well covered, but it was a potential problem that they should factor into the equation.

"You _**what?!**_ "

" **West Angola.** It was because Olivia was abducted. Nichols went behind my back and had her Taken so that he could have his war. And it worked. I went to war in hopes that she would be returned as promised, but it became more complicated than that..."

Fitz reached over and took her hand in his under the table, giving her a comforting squeeze. It was something they hadn't discussed, but he knew they needed to. On their time. It was one of many conversational bridges that they would have to cross. Together.

" _ **This**_...is a problem."

Huck spoke up.

"It is but it doesn't have to be. We can have whatever evidence is out there destroyed, virtual or physical. We'll make it happen, Liv. We've Handled worse."

Olivia nodded next to him.

"We have. It will be a challenge, in more ways than one, but I think we can handle it if we go at it the right way. We have to claim the Narrative before it is established for us."

Leo chimed in, knowing that was definitely his department.

"Star-Crossed Lovers, for sure. The world has been against you, but you're fighting to be together anyway. Gold."

"Everyone loves a love story," Quinn added.

"Especially when it's true."

Fitz ended his words with a grin in Olivia's direction.

/

 **S** hyly, Olivia smiled back and suppressed the urge to look down at her shoes like a smitten schoolgirl. Essentially, she was and there wasn't anything wrong with that but she was still Olivia Pope, damn it all! She had an image to uphold, at least in front of Leo and Marcus. Leo was a rival Fixer and although she and Abby were friends, a case could be made for the brassy yet soft hearted redhead being her best friend (sans Fitz, of course), she didn't know Leo from Adam, Eve, or Steve. She knew not to trust him fully and she appreciated that authenticity. It was rare, especially around D.C. and Olivia knew that even if they didn't become friends, Leo would prove to be a valuable ally long term. Perhaps, he'd even become family adjacent. He and Abby seemed to be getting serious. She would have to ask the redhead the next time they both had downtime. Even if she and Leo weren't serious, they seemed to be much more solid than her and David Rosen (which was partially Olivia's fault...) or that no good bastard Charles Putney!

Huck and Quinn were family, just like Abby so she didn't mind showing them a little bit of underbelly. It was long overdue. All 3 of them trusted her with their underbelly, as had Harrison and Stephen. She owed them and they had earned the same courtesy from her.

Mutual respect had been forged between her and Marcus during the Brandon Walker protests (not to mention the Incident with the Mayor's wife...) but Olivia didn't feel comfortable enough to soften completely around him just yet. Familiarity would come with time. Marcus reminded her a lot of Harrison, honestly. Bold, brash, and ready to fight the good fight, even if he had to play a bit dirty at times. Their family would always have a Harrison shaped hole in it (just like there was a Stephen shaped one) but that didn't mean that there wasn't room for new members...well, except for one approaching exception.

 **Jake Ballard** was laden with enough Gettysburger to feed an army and she could feel sharp tension radiating from him as he set it on the conference room table, especially as he took in her appearance. She was glowing like a firefly from her interlude with Fitz. Her lips were still swollen from the kisses she had fully participated in with Fitz outside and in Vermont. She was in bright colors, denim, badass black leather, and there was a deep contentment in her body language, even with the Media storm raging outside and on the television screens.

For the first time in far too long, Olivia felt anchored and free, confident in most of her decisions and was willing to ask for help in the ones she wasn't, help that would not be coming from Jake anymore. Jake's last words of advice to her had set her on the path to boldness, the path to long overdue honesty with herself and the World, and the path to genuine joy with the man she genuinely loved with all of her heart, mind, and spirit.

 **That man was not Jake** and it had to burn him to know that, to see her like this and to know it wasn't and would never be because of him. Olivia couldn't trust or love him enough to let him see her true self.

While he had seen her as "carefree" Julia Baker and a distressed Olivia Pope, Jake had never gotten to see her as her original badass self. Rowan (and sadly, Fitz...) had thrown him into her orbit at a time where she felt raw, confused, dirty, and unloved. She had been smarting from Fitz's sound rejections of her and the accompanying heartbreak that she refused to fully acknowledge since the heartbreak had come from her own actions, or rather, _**lack**_ of actions. She should've tried harder to stop Defiance or at least found some way to tell Fitz the truth about it earlier. Maybe he wouldn't have been shot, maybe the Cytron Bombing could've been prevented, maybe...maybe she and Fitz would be happy together instead on the road to it…

Anyway, Jake seeing her now, seeing her as the Olivia Pope of old blended with an emerging brand new one, a new one whose actions screamed that he no longer had a place in her bed or the forefront of her mind...they would have to talk. They would have to talk and Olivia would have to lay down the law. She would have to discard him as a substitute and safety net. She would have to be a true Gladiator in her personal life. Being a true Gladiator in her personal life wasn't just fighting for the good life that she wanted and deserved to have with Fitz. It was also about cutting off and burning the toxic/unhealthy people within her life, too.

Dealing with Jake would be just like dealing with Cyrus, Mellie, and Rowan, only more complex. Jake believed himself to be in love with her and while she had made it clear that her heart was not his to have, her actions in using him repeatedly gave him false hope. And she _**had**_ grown fond of him but it was nothing compared to how she felt about Fitz. Even if she had never met Fitz, she would never be able to love and want him like Jake wanted her to. It just wouldn't happen.

They would have to talk.

She would have to stand her ground and tell him all the truths unspoken between them and hope that he'd eventually understand. Olivia knew that he would be hurt and angry but she still hoped that he'd find a way to accept and understand the new reality.

She would have to keep him from putting malicious hands on her in the process and most of all, she would have keep Fitz from putting malicious hands on him without just provocation, especially if Jake decided to keep sticking around despite her ending it with him.

She and Fitz were _**finally**_ in a good place, a good place that wasn't built on shaky ground and the last thing she wanted was to have to cover up an attempted or accomplished murder of the man he saw as a huge rival for her affections, worse than Edison Davis or Franklin Russell. Edison and Franklin had never managed to take her away from him. Jake had. She had ran off with him to the Island and held onto the unhealthy attachment to the other man so tightly before and after doing so, Fitz had genuinely felt that she had fallen in love with Jake, which was just not true. It would never be true. **Fitz was the only man for her and the absolute love of her life. He always had been and he always would be. No one else mattered.** **  
**  
Just because Fitz knew all of that in his mind didn't mean that his heart and ego were going to be reasonable on the subject.

When it came to her and Them, Fitz and rational thoughts were mutually exclusive, something that both endeared him to Olivia and also made her want to punch his lights out.

Not to mention, there was some kind of beef between Fitz and Jake dating back to their time in the Air Force, one that had tainted their friendship and one that had only become worse once she was added into the picture. She didn't know the whole story, only pieces of it. She did know that it was just a big mess, an adjacent mess to the larger one she had created out of cowardice, but like the Mess she and Fitz were publicly, she would find a way to clean it up and make some good come from it down the line.

No, _**they**_ would. She and Fitz would. They were going to work together and Handle it together. They'd let others help them but they would plot the course of their paths together. They were going to be a Team, a real team, not like the "Team" he had been in with Mellie nor like the "Team" they had been in with Cyrus.

 **They were going to do this and it was going to be great.**

 _ **They**_ **were going to be great.**

They were already great…

"What did I miss, other than the obvious?"

" **Fitz loves Olivia. Olivia loves Fitz.** They're **awesomely Olitz** so all of us are going to put our heads together with them so they can love each other without ruining their lives until their 3rd reincarnations. We're gonna take them from a Hemmings/Jefferson reboot to a grand love story on the scale of Cleopatra and Marc Antony without the whole dying and making the existing Kingdom fall to pieces parts. At least in theory. Oh, and he built her a 20 million dollar love nest in Vermont and gave her his great-grandmother's priceless ring at Beene's 2nd wedding as a symbol of devotion and of true love. Awesome, you got the extra gravy and A1 sauce...Olivia, I know you were engaged to Edison Davis back in the day but is there anyone else that was important to you that could bite you and Fitz in the ass?"

"No...well, Jake and I were together for a while but it wasn't a real relationship to me. It was friends with benefits. I used him for months and he let me. I'm not proud of doing so but it's the truth."

"Wow...that's...that's cold."

"It's the truth, Leo. The only way to Spin this correctly is for Fitz and me to be as honest as possible. Plus, I don't like it when my Clients lie to me so I'm not going to do it to you. There was Jake and there was also a guy named Russell but he was a three night stand and he had his own reasons for being with me."

"What kind of reasons?"

"Bad and classified reasons that going into detail about could get you killed or maimed enough for you to wish you were dead."

"All righty, then I don't need to know about them. They can stay a mystery. Let's break for lunch and I'll see about getting you a Primetime interview set up, okay? Okay."

/

 **S** eeing her smile so often, so openly, was new. Before, there had been so many reasons to keep a reserved expression, so many dark clouds gathering over them, even in their few and far between moments of bliss. But the last few days Fitz had seen her smile and heard her laugh. It was balance to the tears he had always watched her shed. They were finding their level ground, finally, and though they were still slightly shaky, they were learning how to stand on it without buckling. Together.

He tensed immediately as Jake entered the room. It was involuntary. A conditioned response after the role he had played in Olivia's life. He had been the arms she had run to instead of going to Fitz. Instead of going where she belonged. Jake had been the exit route when all she needed to do was go _**home**_. But that was over. She was home.

Regardless, the other man had touched her and kissed her, and the knowledge of that infuriated Fitz. He wanted to take out that anger by beating him to a pulp, and clenched his jaw and fists as he tried to relax and hold back. Olivia wouldn't want him to make a scene.

Relief washed over him when she confirmed with her words that Jake hadn't even been a blip on her radar. Her choice was clear, but the presence of the other man still left him uneasy. Jealousy was a bitter bitch. Fitz knew because he felt it. Who knew what Jake could decide to do if he still had lingering feelings for Olivia? But Fitz would fight for her now.

They had been given a breathtaking glimpse of what their lives would be like. Falling asleep together. Making love whenever they wanted instead of on rare, rushed occasions. Showing affection in public without worry of being exposed. **They had started to pave the way. He would be damned if he let that slip away.**

Her words did give him some comfort though. She didn't have to say it that way. She could have acknowledged whatever had existed between her and Jake, but she **shut it down**. She refused to give it meaning. That had to mean something. Didn't it? They were gathered at her office, forming a plan and fighting to paint their relationship in the right light, the _**real**_ light.

They were going to show the world who they were as a couple. They were going to stand in the public eye and declare their Truth. But he still couldn't stand Jake being in the same room. It sickened him.

He needed coffee. Really, he didn't. The caffeine surely wouldn't settle his already unsteady nerves. What he needed was scotch, but it would dull his edges. He wanted to be sharp, for her. For them. So strong, black coffee would have to suffice. They had a long night ahead of them. Walking over to the kitchenette, Fitz took a black mug out of the cabinet and poured it full of the rich-smelling liquid from the coffee pot.

She saw the tension in his frame as she approached him. His shoulders and back were rigid with it. He had gone from smiling at her cutely to bordering on brooding and the only noticeable shift that could have caused it was Jake returning to the office. It didn't surprise her. Fitz, rightfully, had doubts and insecurities when Jake was involved. That was her fault. She had done that to him. She knew it would take time, but she would do whatever she had to do to convince him that she belonged to no one but him. She was irrevocably in love with Fitz. **No one would ever make her stray again.** **  
**  
Her hand smoothed affectionately over the space between his shoulders, the muscles there rippling beneath her touch. He turned around halfway and offered her a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Hey...you okay?" she asked quietly, her expression a touch concerned.

He took a sip of his coffee, the bitterness dripping down into his gut that was already burning quietly with emotion.

"Yeah...it's just...a little awkward with him here..." he admitted.

That was the light way to put it, but he met her eye, knowing she would clearly read the words in his gaze that he wasn't saying. Their soul-deep connection whispered to her what he couldn't.

 _ **/**_

" **M** ore than a little awkward, actually. I was hoping that he wouldn't be here. Each of us has gotten a chance for a new start with Rowan in prison. Jake should've taken his and ran with it because there's nothing left for him in DC."

"His job is still here. _**You're**_ still here."

"There truly is nothing left for him here in DC. He doesn't have a real job, anymore. B613 is weakened right now and there's not going to be a place for him there once it recovers. He's damaged goods because of being one of Rowan's "sons" and that makes him disposable. If he's waiting to be with me again, then he's wasting his time. I don't want to be with him. I don't love him. I've never loved him. I _**did**_ use him but I don't want or feel the need to do that, anymore. I told you that I was done being insane about us, Fitzgerald. I told you that I didn't want to make the same stupid mistakes I did in the past. I told you that if I have a choice, I'm staying here with you. I promised to stay with you and to love you like I should've been doing from the start. I always keep my promises."

"You _**do**_ keep your promises and you've been amazing so far, Livvie. You really have. I just..."

"You need more time for it to sink in that it's real, that _**we're**_ real and that I'm not going to fuck us over again. I said that we were in it together at the Constitution and I ran. I ran away before you found out about Defiance and pushed me away. I ran away after you came and ran out the clock with me. I ran away during your re-election campaign and I ran away when you needed me most. I gave you hope, gave us hope, and when push came to shove, I ran away for no good reason and without even saying goodbye most of the time. I created a bad pattern between us that you've gotten used to. You're still waiting for the other shoe to drop and I get it. I really do and I'm sorry, baby. I've done a lot of damage to your trust over the last 6 years and it won't get undone in just...wow, it hasn't even been a week since I came to the Truman, has it? It's only been 4 days."

"It's been the best 4 days...I don't like that he's here, Liv. I don't trust him as far as I can throw him, not just because of you but also because of his strong connections to Rowan and B613 but...even after everything we've been through, at the end of the day, I still trust you so if you say that you and Jake are done, then you're done."

"I can't speak for him but as for me? Jake and I are done. **Never again**."

"No more running away?"

"No more running anywhere unless it's to you or with you."

As soon as she said that, the majority of the tension in his body language drained away and the look he gave her was full of raw devotion. He was still wary of her words, of all the words that she should've said to him earlier, but her actions were matching up. She was standing her ground. She was involving directly him in the plans to Spin, Fix, and Handle them. She was being honest with him about her feelings, despite how uncomfortable the honesty made her feel, and she had bluntly said that she loved only him to her Gladiators, to Leo and Russell, and to Jake. The fact that he was standing in OPA, her inner sanctum because she had brought him there instead of bad circumstances alone, had to help boost his already deep confidence in her and them.

Olivia was still afraid. She would always be afraid, it seemed but at least she wasn't destructive with it, anymore. She wasn't letting the fear hold her back. Being with Fitz openly would be difficult but the alternatives of hiding in the shadows or ending it permanently would be agony, especially now. They had gotten to taste the forbidden fruit of legitimacy, only to find that it wasn't so forbidden, after all. In fact, it was sweet and healthy, more than ready to be devoured fully.

 **She wasn't going to back down. She wasn't going to back away. She was All In and she was all too aware that Fitz was, too. He had been All In from the get-go.** He just had to wait for her to catch up. Thankfully, he had. She had given him ample reason to give up on her, to give up on _**them**_ , but he hadn't. He had kept the faith and now...oh, now...

Closing the distance between them, Olivia embraced him tenderly, resting her head in her place on his left shoulder. Fitz's arms went around her and she looked up at him. She didn't have words at the moment but words weren't needed. When she allowed him to, Fitz could read her as easily as he read security briefs. He could see past all of her defenses, all of her _**The**_ Olivia Pope bravado, and find her as Olivia or more accurately, his Livvie. She was his Livvie and she loved him with all of her heart.

Just like she had outside, she initiated the kiss and Fitz gave himself over to her, following her lead. His lips were warm from the coffee and she could taste it on his tongue as their affection deepened. His left hand went to where her neck and jaw met and a shiver of delight went through her as she felt his bare ring finger on her cheek. There was no metal there, anymore. There wasn't a reminder that their time was limited, that he wasn't hers, anymore. She had taken Mellie's ring off and he would never put it on again. He probably wouldn't even see it again. The cleaning crews had to have found it and with the new reality, the honest reality out there for the whole World to see, there was no point in returning the band to him. It would probably end up on eBay or in a private auction like his Eisenhower Pin and Doux Bebe. It may even end up in the Smithsonian. The wedding band of the first American President to ever get divorced in Office would be a good centerpiece to a **'Scandalous Politicians of America'** exhibit. Honestly, Olivia didn't care what happened to it.

She would give him a new ring to go with their new life together. She would be Mrs. Grant...Mrs. Pope-Grant and even if she wasn't going to be FLOTUS, she would be _**his**_ First Lady, the First and Only Lady of his heart.

It was something else to strive for and to look forward to.

Slowly, the deep long kiss became shorter ones, still passionate but tapering. They still had a lot of work to do before they could return to each other's eager arms. Plus, she didn't want to make love with him at OPA. All right, she did but not when the others were around. Their sex life was already getting enough scrutiny inside and outside. There was no need to provide a soundtrack.

The kisses stopped and her eyes remained closed, his warm hands cupping her face.

" _Look at me._ "

Olivia did so and returned his somewhat dopey smile after he pressed one last kiss to her brow. Picking up his mug of coffee, Fitz retreated back towards the conference room and she watched him go fondly. Damn, he was fine. He was so fine and sweet and _**hers**_...

"Friends with benefits?"

The tender warmth in her body drained away and she turned to face the second doorway, the one that led straight to Huck's domain and what used to be Stephen's office. Judging by his stiff body language and the tic of his jaw, Jake had been watching her and Fitz, listening to them for at least the last 5 minutes. The censure in his eyes made her bristle and she folded her arms across her chest before looking at him defiantly. She had already been shamed by Mellie, Cyrus, and especially herself. The Media was having their field day, now. She'd be _**damned**_ if she let Jake condemn her too, especially since he didn't even have figurative high ground to stand on. He was as dirty as she was. Hell, he was ten times worse than she was!

"That was the nicest way I could think of describing us. Would you have preferred substitute or fuck buddy, instead?"

"I would've preferred that you...forget it."

" **No.** You've obviously got something to say so let's hear it."

"Olivia..."

"You would've preferred that I chose you. I was supposed to choose _**you**_ and I didn't."

"I'm actually _**glad**_ that you didn't choose me. I'm too good for you."

"You weren't too good for me when I was letting you fuck me, Jake. And let's not forget that less than a week ago, you were ready and willing to whisk me away from all of this, to rescue me like the damsel in distress that I allowed myself to be. **You have no right to judge me**."

Jake winced at that and sighed jaggedly before replying, "I'm not trying to judge you, Olivia. I'm just worried about you. I want to be sure that you're not letting him pressure you into doing something that you don't want to, into living in a fishbowl just to make him happy and because you feel like you owe him something. Yeah, what he said at the Press Conference was beautiful but the reality...it's not going to be easy, Olivia."

"I know that it's not going to be easy but making a path to happiness rarely is. The last time we spoke, you said that I was owed happiness and I should pursue it. If you meant that, then you _**had**_ to know that I wasn't going to choose you. Even if Fitz rightfully told me to go to hell on the Truman, I wouldn't have come back to you. I'm done settling. **I want to be happy.** "

"And _**he**_ makes you happy?"

"When I allow him to, Fitz helps me make my own happiness. Jake, I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I used you and made you think that there was a real future for us, that we could stand in the sun together. I truly am but I'm done apologizing for loving Fitz and I'm done running away from that love. We're done. You need to move on."

The obstinate expression on his face told her that he had no intention of doing so but Olivia just shrugged before leaving him to brood in peace. She knew that Jake seeing sense quickly wasn't going to happen from the moment he saw her but that didn't stop her from being honest with him. She needed to be honest with him and to continue being honest with herself. She wasn't going back to him. She wasn't going to go backwards into bad habits anymore, at least not on purpose.

Olivia was certain that she'd have her Moments, the Moments when bolting and denying herself joy seemed to be the right thing to do. She had been living with that pattern of behavior long before Fitz came along. He was just the most prominent and painful example of it. That pattern wouldn't leave her Playbook immediately. It would take time and bravery, along with support from those who loved her and who truly wanted the best for her. That list of people was sadly short and in flux, except for one person, the absolute love of her life. Fitz was the absolute love of her life and despite all of the hell mainly she had raised between them, he still loved her with all of his heart. Olivia was eternally grateful for that.

 **Jake Ballard didn't love her.** Just like she had never loved him, he had never loved her. He may have said the words but his actions screamed otherwise. People in love do not take advantage of their partner's compromised emotions (even when encouraged, which she had done more than once...) and they _**certainly**_ didn't choke, shove, and concuss the one they claimed to adore. It just didn't happen. He didn't love her. In fact, looking back on things, Olivia was certain that Jake had no idea what love truly was. That wasn't to say that she herself was an expert on the subject but compared to Jake, she was a Nobel Prize laureate. What was going on with him in regards to her was infatuated lust, a bruised ego, a savior complex, topped off by with the now horrifyingly obvious fact that in order to justify his actions and to reduce his guilt, he had pulled a **Rowan**.

 **Rowan** did all sorts of malicious, immoral, and disgusting things but justified it under a cloak of Love. Love of country, love of liberty, love of his offspring... **and it was all a load of bullshit**. Everything about Rowan was a pile of _**steaming**_ bullshit underneath a thin veneer of civility, wonderful oratory in the form of long monologues, and hubris. That hubris and his ego fueled his destructive actions, just her own hubris and ego had fueled hers. In Rowan's mind, he was the puppet master and the most brilliant man in the world. It didn't help that he actually was intelligent but he overestimated himself. He had become so accustomed to getting his own way that when he didn't, it was like the end of days with him as a vengeful God.

Jake followed that pattern to a T but on a smaller and less skilled scale. He claimed that he wanted to slay the monsters but he was one of them, one of the biggest ones that she had so foolishly protected just so she could be "safe". God, she had been an _**idiot**_! She had been an idiot, a coward, a liar, and...well, she couldn't go back. God knows that if she could go back and undo the damage her cowardice had done, she would've done it twice over. More than twice over, really…

She couldn't go back but she _**could**_ go forward. Going forward not only involved the good things with Fitz but tackling the bad things like Jake, Rowan, Mellie, Cyrus, and most of all, the Demons that still raged inside her mind and heart, fueled by longtime insecurities and her recent traumas. It would be difficult, back breaking, tear stained work but work that would be worthwhile in the end.

It _**had**_ to be.

 **Go Big and Stay Home.**

* * *

 **4 Days Later...**

 _ **"Olivia Pope will break her silence tonight in an exclusive interview with BNC..."**_

 _ **"The top trend on Twitter right now is #DoesPopeLovePOTUSTooOrNah with over 9 million mentions, some even coming from prominent celebrities such as..."**_

 _ **"The Olivia Pope Interview is tonight and I am eager to see the carnage..."**_

 _ **"...it's going**_ **down** _ **tonight and my body is**_ **ready** _ **! Do not call me, do not text me, don't even**_ **look** _ **at me because like millions of others, I will be glued to my TV in my favorite giraffe onesie with a bowl of popcorn in my lap and a big ol' glass of chardonnay in my hand. I might even take notes. The Olivia Pope BNC interview will be legen-dary, once in a lifetime scorching Tea and should not be missed..."**_

 _ **"Sally Langston's**_ **The Liberty Report** _ **will be moved to tomorrow night at 9EST... 30 minute delays for**_ **Dancing with the Stars** _ **and**_ **The Voice** _ **..."**_

 _ **"What will she say? What will she wear? Will Olivia Pope be as resolute as President Grant? There are so many questions..."**_

 _ **"President Grant's approval numbers are all over the place. They're low within his Party, particularly with married women over the age of 40 but surprisingly high with..."**_

 _ **"Karen and Teddy Grant have been relocated to the main Grant Ranch-Compound in Santa Barbara, California under heavy security. There's been no activity on Karen's social media since before her father revealed the truth of about his relationship with Olivia Pope …"**_

 _ **"Mr. Clarence Parker, the father of 17 year old racially motivated police shooting victim Brandon Parker and namesake of the hotly debated Brandon Bill spoke out in defense and support of both Olivia Pope and President Grant during an early morning service yesterday at Shiloh Baptist Church..."**_

 _ **"...still no word from Junior Virginia Senator Melody Grant on the unfolding situation. She seems to be biding her time. Sources say that she is staying in the Hay-Adams Hotel and that former White House Chief of Staff Cyrus Beene is with her..."**_

* * *

"You look perfect!"

"Of course I do. I know how to dress and things like this were a big part my former livelihood, Leo."

"No, no, no...think positive! You've only lost 5 Clients and people have short memories in this town. They're a pack of drooling sheep like idiots and that works to our advantage. If you can work your Pope magic on this crowd, then I guarantee you that you'll still have your Firm as long as you want it. I mean, yeah. You're about to officially debut as the President's Side Chick but let me tell you something: if I'm in trouble with a capital 'T' and Olivia Pope offers to not only get me through it but to break even at the end of the day, you're damned right that I'm gonna hire her, regardless of who's making her kitty purr."

" **Don't ever say that again.** Not everyone is that reasonable."

"Nope, but there's enough people who are. Go out there and reel them in. Sell Olitz the Star Crossed Lovers like hotcakes. Be as honest as you can without putting a bigger bulls-eye on yourself, remember to smile when you talk about him, and don't be afraid to turn on the waterworks when things get heavy. Don't pull a Kim K-West with the gaping ugly cry but...you've got to be human on that couch. You've got to get them to see past the White Hat and your new red 'A'. Let your gooey, happy Olivia in love, elevator macking self shine through. Can you do that for the next 60 minutes?"

"I can do it. I _**will**_ do it."

"Thatta girl. I'll see you in the other side. You can do it, Pope! I believe in you! I also believe in elves..."

Snorting ruefully at Leo being Leo, Olivia stood up from the makeup station and crossed over to the mic handlers. She was set up quickly and then left to her own devices. The stage was bustling on the other side of the gray wall and peeking around it, she saw that Noah Baker was already settled into his seat. He was a good choice for this 'coming out' interview. He was one of the few Talking Heads who were staying neutral about the whole Team Olitz/Team Mellie battle and he had interviewed with the Grant family before. The stock footage from past interviews could and would be used to compare-contrast easily.

He was BNC's top broadcaster and known for being tough but not brutal. He allowed his guests to set the tone. If they came out hostile and shifty, he would put the hammer down but if the guest showed vulnerability, genuine vulnerability and honesty, he'd cut them a break. Plus, despite a couple of hiccups involving the aforementioned Grant interviews, she and Noah had a decent rapport, one of mutual respect.

The overhead lights flashed in a 5 minute warning and Olivia swallowed back bile. Her stomach was a mess of burning knots and she clasped her hands together in an effort to get them to stop shaking. It wouldn't do anyone an ounce of good if she passed out before the interview or publicly afterwards. The last thing that she and Fitz needed was a pregnancy rumor added to the mix. That wasn't to say that she wasn't interested in having his baby ("two babies, I think...") but the circumstances surrounding them were crazy enough at the moment. After the Media lost most of its interest and his divorce mercifully became final, they would sit down and talk about it. Well, more accurately, she would let him know that she was ready and a very excited Fitz would pounce on her, pick her up, and insist on making their firstborn on the nearest solid surface...which wouldn't be that bad, honestly.

Fitz would be worth getting stuck to and falling off of a piano, provided that she didn't hit her head again in the process.

A quiet whimper escaped her as the BNC Special Report theme began to play and Olivia let her thumb go over Doux Bebe as Noah began his opening monologue. Everyone was watching. The whole World was watching. Fitz, her remaining Gladiators, Abby, the White House staff, Leo, Russell, Jake, Mellie, Cyrus, Rowan, whoever was left in the wake of Rowan's Great B613 Purge...they were tuning in to watch her. She wasn't in the background. She was the Client. She was the Scandal. She was the Headline and she... she... _oh, god_...

"You can do it, Livvie."

 **Fitz.** What was Fitz doing here? He was supposed to be at in the Residence or at OPA or even at her apartment. She had given him keys to all of her locks. Was he really in front of her or was he in her mind? The presence of new Secret Service agents answered her question and she let out a surprised huff of laughter.

"What are _**you**_ doing here?"

"Leo called me. He said that you needed me and according to him, my being here is good Optics for us."

"... _I'm scared, Fitz. I want to go home. I can't do this._ "

"Yes, you can. You can do anything. Go out there and show them who you are."

Fitz embraced her and Olivia held onto him with white knuckle intensity. She made a mental note to buy Leo a bottle of his favorite alcohol or to set up a nice date night for him and Abby. Fitz being here was just what she needed to anchor her. Her nerves were still shot to hell. They would be until the Interview was done but the urge to run was gone. To her credit, she had wanted to run to Fitz. She wanted to feel his arms around her, to hear his reassurance and utter faith in her. A less mature part of her had wanted to hide underneath some blankets with him or perhaps underneath the bed itself. She was certainly small enough to fit and Fitz wouldn't mind indulging her.

With a fortifying breath, Olivia reluctantly stepped away from him and smoothed her hands over her outfit to get rid of any wrinkles. Her top was a short sleeved lilac v-neck sweater. Her snow white pleated skirt was tea length and she had on a pair of floral print 4 inch heels, the flowers being white, lilac, and plum purple. A black cardigan with white pearl buttons topped the outfit and her waved hair was in a messy yet elegant updo, once again leaving her face fully exposed. Her makeup was minimal, black mascara and a soft cotton candy pink for her lips. The only jewelry she had on were her usual gold studs and Doux Bebe, which again had been painstakingly polished.

Fitz came up behind her and she met his gaze in the full length mirror.

"I can do this. I _**will**_ do this."

"You're going to be great, Livvie. Just be yourself and they'll love you."

"I hope so. You'll...you'll be here when I'm done?"

"Of course."

"Good."

The commercial break theme played and the stage door opened.

"Ms. Pope? We're ready for you."

* * *

 **NB:** So, you are the President's mistress?

 **OP:** Yes, I am. Fitz and I have been involved since his first campaign. Physically, it was off and on but emotionally, we have been together for the last 6 years.

 **NB:** Last Friday, President Grant made it clear that he is in love with you. How do you feel about him?

 **OP:** I love him, too. He's the love of my life.

 _ **/**_

 **NB:** How did your relationship with him begin? Who pursued whom?

 **OP:** It was a mutual decision, one that both of us fought against at first. In fact, he tried to fire me after our first meeting. Initially, I thought it was because I had bruised his ego. He asked what was going wrong with his Campaign and I told him in front of all of his staff members and...I thought he was angry at me.

 **NB:** But, he wasn't?

 **OP:** No. He was impressed and intrigued and...honestly, I turned him on and that was not a good thing. He knew that he was in trouble and he tried to get me away from him. It didn't work. Cyrus told him to chase after me and it just...he fell for me immediately but with me, it was a more gradual thing. I saw how kind he was and how intelligent he was and how funny and...by the time I realized what was going on, it was too late. Not only had he become my best friend, I had fallen for him and it couldn't be undone, no matter how much I wanted to believe otherwise.

 _ **/**_

 **NB:** Who knew of your affair?

 **OP:** Just about anyone who interacted with us figured it out quickly, including Mellie and Cyrus. Fitz and I tried our best to be discreet but it became the worst kept secret in the White House by the end of his first 100 days in office. It was the driving force behind resigning from the Director of Communications position. It was too painful to be in the White House with him but not by his side.

 **NB:** You're saying that the First Lady knew?

 **OP:** Oh, yes. She actively encouraged it in the early days. She saw it as a win-win situation, a neat and tidy arrangement. She could keep her place as First Lady without having to actually be Fitz's wife. She turned that role over to me. Once she realized that there was genuine love between us and that it wasn't just about sex, she changed her tune. She actually blamed _**me**_ for the Amanda Tanner situation. Her exact words were: _**'you fell down on the job and you let that girl get in his pants**_.' When things were status quo between her and Fitz, I was nothing but the uppity homewrecking dirty little whore that he couldn't keep his hands off of but when it hit the fan, when she felt like he was slipping out of her control, all of a sudden, I was the absolute love of the life and the only one who could save the day.

 **NB:** And Cyrus Beene?

 **OP:** He felt that my being around was for the greater good of the Grant Administration, at least until he realized that Fitz loved me enough to walk away from the Presidency, which would put the roots of his personal political power in jeopardy. After that, he constantly played us against each other. And like with Mellie, he particularly enjoyed condemning me until he needed my help. They are _**not**_ innocent victims of me and Fitz's relationship. Both of them benefited greatly from it and when it suited them, both of them happily used it as leverage to make us feel trapped and desperate enough to do whatever they wanted to keep each other safe. Do not let them tell you otherwise. If they say otherwise, **they're lying**.

 _ **/**_

 **NB:** You've been seen with other men in the last 6 years. You were engaged to Senator Edison Davis of Florida and were connected to Captain Jake Ballard last year. If you were in love with President Grant, then why did you...

 **OP:** **Cowardice. Shame. Guilt.** I was running away from my feelings. I was trying to have a normal life again. I was trying to avoid being known only as Fitz's Sally Hemmings or Monica Lewinsky. I was...I thought that if I could just move on, if I could just make a good life with someone else, then the feelings I had for Fitz could be compartmentalized and forgotten. I also thought that I was doing what was best for him, politically and socially, while completely ignoring his wishes on the subject in the process. If it had been left up to him, then we would've been out and proud years ago.

 **NB:** What has changed your mind? Why did you allow him to confirm your relationship? Why are you coming forward now?

 **OP:** **I'm tired.** I'm tired of running away. I'm tired of settling for mediocrity and I am _**so**_ tired of hurting Fitz and myself by living in denial. It's better to be honest, to stand in my own Truth than to keep hiding in the shadows. I'm certainly not happy about being called a whore and a homewrecker by Mass Media. I'm not happy about the scrutiny and condemnation that I'm facing as a black woman who had the audacity to fall in love with a powerful and married white man but…I really don't regret coming forward, now **.** I should've done it sooner. Things are hard for me right now and will likely get worse before they get better but **I don't regret falling in love with Fitz.** **I could** _ **never**_ **regret loving him like he loves me.**

 _ **/**_

 **NB:** Your father, Eli Pope was just arrested and convicted of embezzling over 2 billion dollars from his curating position at the Smithsonian. Do you have any comment on that?

 **OP:** I love him but he is exactly where he needs to be right now. Just like there are consequences for me falling in love with the right man at the wrong time, there are consequences for his actions. I wish him the best.

 _ **/**_

 **NB:** What are your future professional plans? Will you be closing your Firm?

 **OP:** I would like to be able to strike a balance between being with Fitz openly and continuing my work as a Fixer. I'd prefer not to have to close or turn over OPA to new leadership but if it comes to that, so be it.

 _ **/**_

 **NB:** You keep running your thumb over the ring on your left index finger. Is that a gift from the President?

 **OP:** Yes. He gave it to me before Cyrus Beene's wedding to James Novak. It belonged to his Great Grandmother Annette. Her father bought in Paris as a gift for her debutante ball. It's called 'Doux Bebe', Sweet Baby and on her deathbed, she gave this ring to Fitz to give to the woman he loved.

 **NB:** Has he given you anything else?

 **OP:** We share real estate.

 **NB:** Have you given him anything like your ring?

 **OP:** Yes. I gave him his Flag Pin on Inauguration Day. I found it at a private estate auction in New England. It was made for Dwight Eisenhower during his Presidency so there are only 48 stars on it.

 _ **/**_

 **NB:** What has kept you and President Grant together for this long? Why are you determined to stay together?

 **OP:** I can't speak for him but...I know that this is going to sound cliché but love has kept and will continue to keep us together. We're two very flawed people who are at their best, most authentic selves when we're together. We build each other up and we balance each other out. _ **Yes**_ , how we came together was less than ideal, a case could be made for completely immoral, but we are good together. We have something special and that something is worth fighting for. I've spent my whole life running away from love because I was afraid to lose it and that's still a distinct possibility but I don't want to run anymore. I want to fight. I want to go down swinging. I want to be loved and to give love. **I want painful, difficult, devastating, life changing and affirming love** and that's with him. I don't just want to be happy. I want to have _**joy**_. Joy is with Fitz. **My heart is with Fitzgerald Grant III and that is where it's going to stay.** That is why I'm still with him.

* * *

"And we're clear!"

 **It was over.** It had been so simple yet so hard. She had gone forward and told her Truth in a public forum. Millions of Americans, along with millions of other people around the globe had tuned in to see her speak. The whole World watched and listened as she spoke not just the truth but from her heart. It had been the shortest and longest 60 minutes, 56 seconds of her life. Olivia had gone forward. She had told the truth. She had defended herself, her man, and their love.

And the World had not fallen off of its axis nor had the sky exploded before falling into the sea.

Her mic was removed and she was given a glass of water to soothe her throat, which she downed in one long swallow. Silently, she extended her hand for an impressed looking Noah to shake and once that was done, Olivia returned backstage. As promised, Fitz was standing at one of the monitors and the smile on his face when he saw her, his relaxed body language...

She had done yet another thing right between them. Even if the Interview went over like a ton of bricks with the Public, knowing that Fitz was happy with it, knowing that she hadn't hurt him tonight made her feel like the Queen of Everything.

Looking away from Fitz, she couldn't help but snort at a rapidly approaching Leo Bergen's appearance. He was practically vibrating with excitement. His hair looked like he had grabbed onto it a few times and his tie was undone, along with the top button of his dress shirt but he was also happy. He had been worried but she had pulled it off and they both knew it.

"That was _**awesome**_! You did it! I knew you could do it!"

"Did you really?"

"It was touch and go for a while but seriously, you kicked ass out there, especially during that last bit. That was a nice play, a real tearjerker moment."

"It wasn't a play, Leo. It was the truth."

"Which makes it even _**more**_ awesome! It's not every day that I get to have a sane Client who can tell the God's honest truth and things don't end up going terribly wrong. I've got to check in with the rest of the Avengers and Red to be sure but things are looking good for you and El Presidente, Olivia. Tonight was a win. Enjoy it. Enjoy each other but keep it PG in public, kids. I'll call you in the morning."

"Okay. Hey, Leo?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, Pope. See you tomorrow."

 ** _/_**

The streets of DC were full of people enjoying the evening and went past their car quickly but not too quickly. There were no sirens, flashing lights, or police escorts this time. The car in front of them held Secret Service Agents and there was a second car two streets over, mirroring their movements towards their destination. No one would look twice at the late model black sedan they were in. It was black and the windows tinted enough to look like a high end cab or Uber. Of course, the entire car, from the panels to the floor mats was completely bulletproof.

The car had been waiting for them in the lower level parking garage and had driven right past the clustered Media. They had been expecting her to exit into an SUV or a grand limousine. They had also hoped to get another look at them together in the aftermath. Although Fitz had kept his departure from the White House incognito, there was no such thing as a secret nowadays, thanks to social media and the overabundance of devices with built in cameras. People knew that he had been backstage during the Interview and one lucky person had even got a shot of him in profile, a tender smile on his face. When Olivia showed him the shot on her own phone, he had informed her that it was right after she had told Noah that he was the love of her life.

Such a simple statement...such a potent statement...getting up on that stage in front of all of those cameras had been one of the most frightening things she had ever done but it had been so rewarding. Not only because she had made Fitz happy but because for the first time in a very, very long time, she could _**relax**_. There weren't a ton of secrets and fears weighing down on her soul, anymore. The World knew the truth (well, most of it...) and she was still standing. Fitz was still standing.

Just like after the Press Conference, her phone was a rapidly buzzing beacon. She was being mentioned in Tweets, Facebook posts, Tumblr posts, and the local news radio was already playing highlights from the Interview. Her confirmation of being Fitz's 'mistress', the story of how they met, and especially her ending statement were on loop with attached commentary. Surprisingly, most of it was positive. Sure, some people were implying that her answers were scripted and yes, some were still very upset with her, especially her perceived 'attacks' on Mellie but overall, the Media was praising her honesty, her humility, and of course, how she presented herself on stage. Even if she had spoken with the eloquence of every great orator, if there had been a single wrinkle in her outfit, then...such was life for women. Hopefully, one day it would change but until then, Olivia would carry on.

Fitz's phone was a buzzing beacon, too but the calls were coming mainly from Mellie and Cyrus. He had already spoken briefly to Lizzie North (who sounded _**very**_ rattled on the line...) and checked in with a worried but ecstatic Abby. Why the Undynamic Duo was bothering him was beyond Olivia's understanding. It wasn't like he could undo what she said even if he wanted to and he certainly didn't want to. Of the two of them, Fitz had the least amount of patience for Mellie and Cyrus and what little that he could muster up died when they left the White House. No, they hadn't left. Fitz had thrown them out, cut them off, and it had been glorious. He had cleaned house. He had burned off the leeches and he was better off for it, as was she.

It really _**was**_ amazing what being brave could get them. The last few days proved that the majority of the obstacles that kept them apart were little more than paper tigers. That wasn't to say that the war for their independence was finished, far from it, but...it was doable. It was possible. As long as they kept moving forward together, as long as they (mainly she...) kept being brave, then they could do it.

They _**would**_ do it.

 _ **/**_

Olivia placed the full laundry bags next to her locked apartment door. Inside of them were all of her sheets, her pillows, and her comforter set. Since they were still usable, she would take the haul to the dry cleaners to be tended to before turning them over to the Salvation Army.

Getting rid of the wine stained couch cushion had been the first step towards healing for her.

Getting rid of the bedding that she had shared with other men would be another step towards healing for them.

Fitz would've never asked or demanded for her to do it. Her POTUS paramour was a jealous man but not a petty one. He was just happy to be back in her life, in her arms and bed where he belonged. He wasn't lingering on the past but she still wanted to replace it all. Olivia made a note to replace the bed and headboard themselves when she eventually bought a new couch or at least the mattress.

She didn't want to have the specters of Edison, Jake, or Russell anywhere near her final new beginning with Fitz. It was a new day, a brand new start that she would not squander, and she wanted even the smallest details to reflect that. Plus, since she was adding more color to her wardrobe, then it only made sense for her home decor to follow.

After checking that all of her locks were secure, Olivia returned to her bedroom doorway and took in the sight in front of her. Her bed was now covered with umber 1500 thread Egyptian cotton sheets, 4 large goose down pillows enclosed in taupe pillowcases, and one comforter. Fitz was carefully unfolding the second one. The first comforter was solid mahogany brown and the second one was scarlet with a black vertical pinstripe pattern. He was shirtless, his suit jacket and shirts in the chair near the windows. His belt was open and the button to his suit pants undone, causing them to ride tantalizingly low.

Apparently, it was laundry day at the White House because instead of the waistband of his preferred Calvin Klein boxer briefs, Olivia could see where the hair on his cobblestone abs descended into shadow, along with the top of the vee where his legs met torso. She also spotted the fading mark of her teeth there and the images of her refreshing that mark, along with the other fading ones on him deepened the coiling heat in her lower abdomen.

As soon as it became clear that the Interview had taken a turn in their favor, her nerves had been replaced by relief and arousal. If Fitz hadn't been backstage, she would've gone straight to the Residence or called him to meet her at her apartment. She wanted to see him. She wanted to hold him. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to strip him bare. She wanted to climb him, scratch him, and feel him all the way inside of her because there was nothing stopping them anymore. Nothing insurmountable, anyway. There were still the matters of settling his divorce, seeing how the inevitable Impeachment hearings would turn out, and all sorts of minor obstacles but overall, they were free to roam about the cabin. They were out of the shadows and could now choose to have stolen moments instead of being forced into them by circumstance. They were free to say that they loved each other and to show it, in and out of the bedroom...

"What are you thinking about, Livvie?"

"Us."

"Good things?"

"Very good things. I...I'm happy, Fitz. For the first time in a long time, I feel happy and I'm glad it's with you."

Fitz nodded and then sat at the edge of the freshly made bed, looking at her expectantly. In response, Olivia toed off her heels and neatly straddled him, matching his bedroom eyes with her own. There had been enough words tonight. Now, it was time for action. Saying how she felt was nice and needed but action was more fun. Plus, they still had quite a lot of time to make up for.

Crossing her arms at the hem, she pulled her lilac sweater over her head and added it to the pile of Fitz's clothes. Today's bra was periwinkle with little white snowdrops embroidered along the band. It was also front clasp and Fitz's fingers shook as he slowly unhooked it. The cups spread and Olivia removed the lacy garment before placing a guiding hand on the back of his head. In the past, she had been insecure about the size of her breasts, wishing that they were a bit bigger but the fact that they could fit easily in her beautiful man's mouth were a major point in their favor. Olivia moaned and rocked against the growing bulge in his pants, hissing in pleasured pain as his teeth grazed her budded nipples. One of his hands went to her hair and she whimpered as he used it as a lever to tilt her head back before kissing her galloping pulse point, heading straight for her ear...

" _ **Do you feel**_ _ **what hearing you say that you love me did to me?**_ "

She nodded and ground harder against his erection, pulling his belt out of its loops to join her bra on the bedroom floor.

" _It was all I could do not to go out there and kiss you right in the middle of your Interview, Livvie, especially when you called both of them out, especially that fucking 'you fell down on the job' bullshit. I swear if I had known that she had said something so disgusting to you..._ "

" _'S okay, baby_..."

" **No, it's not okay!** _**Nothing**_ about that is okay, especially since I said something worse after Ella's Christening! You must've felt awful..."

Shaking her head, Olivia pushed at his chest until he laid back and she grabbed his chin so he couldn't look away from her.

"I _**did**_ but that's all in the past, now. I forgave you a long time ago. Just like you've forgiven me."

"But..."

"Fitzgerald, I'm half naked on your lap and I would very much like to ride you. Can we discuss this later?"

"...yes...yes, of course..."

"Wonderful."

 _ **/**_

She shuddered against him, her hands holding onto the mattress tightly as aftershocks jolted her mind and body. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears and her mouth was wide open, moaning loudly. Olivia could feel Fitz's hand stroking her back and the upward curve of his lips as he kissed her shoulder. The shaking subsided and she whimpered as he resumed moving inside of her, still hard and pulsing inside of her in all the right ways. Fitz's other hand went to her back and he smoothly reversed their positions, still stroking inside of her. Olivia cooed and started to meet him halfway, following his lead.

Looking up, she saw fulfillment in his facial features, along with a bit of happy disbelief. Was he really here with her? Was she really here with him? Had she really gone in front of the whole World and said that she loved him? Had she really claimed him and brought him home with her? The answer to all of those questions were a resounding **YES** and she smiled, just as giddy as he was. Fitz's mouth descended on hers and their rhythm slowed to a deep, rocking grind. He was hitting all of her spots and she rewarded him with squeezing her walls around him. Her nails went over his back in the way he loved and he hissed in pleasured pain.

 _"_ _ **Livvie**_ _..."_

 _"I love you."_

 _"Say it again..."_

 _"I love you."_

 _"_ _ **Again**_ _..."_

 _"I love you...I love you_ _ **so much**_ _...a-always...Fitz, I...oh, god..."_

 _/_

 **H** e hummed his satisfaction and nipped at her neck, his breath hot against the skin there. Her body felt like bliss personified. She was pleasure in the flesh. Every pore, every dip and curve of her frame, every breath and moan. Their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, meant to couple with only each other. No one else would ever touch her again. She was made for him and only him. **His name was branded on her heart**. Her nails raked over him and her thighs trembled as he pleased her.

" _ **Fitz**_ _, yes, baby_ …" She whined softly, her body shifted beneath his in cooperative encouragement.

He was right there with her, kissing her deeply as the jolts of heat began to shoot up his spine. Her back arched, her flat stomach pushing up against his rock hard abdomen as she peaked with a breathy cry. His breath caught and he groaned out as he fell into her love, the intoxicating sensation coating him, leaving him love drunk and grinning. He buried his face into her neck, panting and brushing his lips against her as her hands smoothed up his back soothingly.

" _I love you too, baby_ ," he murmured.

Fitz gazed down at his love where she had her head rested on his chest, her hair tickling his skin. The dim light of the room gave him just enough illumination to observe her features as she slept. The perfect curve of the thick lips that he loved, which were swollen from his repeated kisses. Her dainty nose. The long eyelashes that she often looked through as she peered up at him with her wide doe eyes. God, he loved her. Her arm was draped over his abdomen, her finger splayed further up across his ribcage. Her breaths came evenly, letting him know that she was relaxed and resting well.

Which she should be because she had worn herself out, surely. After all of the lovemaking that had made him tired over the weekend, she had taken her turn and given him just as she had received. Her hips had moved in such perfect rotation over him…and then under him. She hypnotized him with her grace. She always had, from the very beginning. It could be something as simple as the way her body swayed with such confidence as she entered a room and took control of a situation. Or something much more seemingly mundane as the way she applied her lipstick. Every breath she took, every motion she made, took his breath away.

And she was _**finally**_ his. She had been, admittedly, for a very long time, but it was real. It was official. The entire world knew that they were undoubtedly in love with one another. It was a freedom that they had never known and it felt so blissful. He wanted to stay with her in bed for days, showing her with his body just how proud and thankful he was that she had spoken of their love and owned their truth. He had never thought they would see a day when it was possible. The world was at his feet in so many ways. He had everything he wanted that was possible, if not, it was within reasonable reach. While he couldn't bring back his son or change some of the tragedies that had taken place in his life, he felt the returned love of the love of his life surrounding him. It was a comfort, a peace that he had never known. One that allowed a heavy restful feeling to settle over him and granted him a sleep so deep that his mind didn't dare to dream.

/

 _ **"...record breaking ratings...multiple shutdowns of Twitter due to the sheer amount of Tweets related to...**_

 _ **"...Olivia Pope's Friday night BNC interview was classy, raw, and had just the right amount of expertly thrown shade. She looked good, she sounded good, and I believe her when she says that she loves our POTUS, too. I adored every bit of the interview and I think that I can speak for a lot of people when I say that I'm shipping Olitz like FedEx..."**_

 _ **"Mel-lie, you've got some 'splainin' to do because that 'you fell down on the job' line was a little too**_ **The Color Purple** _ **and**_ **Django Unchained** _ **like for my comfort. I know you've got roots in the Deep South but c'mon, now! We're over a decade into a new millennium and if you still insist on being a racist, you've gotta be a lot more subtle or you should just grow up and accept the melanin around you..."**_

 _ **"...still think that we're getting Poped. I think that Olivia Pope's controlling the situation down to a T and as soon as things calm down, as soon as she gets her fill of all the power or bored, she'll leave Grant high and dry like all of her other conquests..."**_

 _ **"You can't claim to have a husband stolen from you if you gave him away like homemade lemonade in the summer..."**_

 _ **"We cannot just ignore the moral implications here! All right, maybe there**_ **is** _ **genuine love between my former political comrade in arms and Ms. Pope but should we really compromise our morals to accommodate them? President Grant has been an adequate leader for these last few years, better than most, but there is room for improvement and he did do the correct thing in offering his resignation to be with Ms. Pope openly. We must give him credit for that and why shouldn't we give him what he wants? Why not let Romeo and Juliet live happily ever after?**_ **And let us not forget about the soon to be ex Mrs. Grant turned Junior Senator.** _ **She is no angel in the situation. If she can so callously pawn her husband off to another woman, then how easily would she give in to those who threaten our freedoms at home and overseas? It's something to think very hard about. Who have we allowed to represent us, Lovers of Liberty? What have we done and more importantly, what can we do as responsible Americans to repair the damage..."**_

 _ **"All pieces of Olivia Pope's outfit have been sussed out with the power of the internet and are sold out on various websites..."**_

 _ **"A ring claiming to be President Grant's missing wedding band has been put up on eBay and with proper authentication could be sold for up to..."**_

 _ **"You don't give your mistress your great grandmother's Ring. You don't share real estate with the mistress. You don't offer to leave one of the best jobs you could ever have for the other woman. That's what you do for your wife or your Number One Girl. Senator Grant may have his name for now but Olivia Pope has what really matters: his heart. If I were in the Senator's shoes, I'd just sign the papers and move on. Co-parent and find a new man because if she goes against #Olitz and they keep standing united..."**_

 _ **"President Grant spent the weekend outside of the White House...presumably at Olivia Pope's apartment..."**_

* * *

"You have to go and run the country...you seriously need to go and run the country..."

" _ **Liv-vie**_..."

" **No way, Mister.** **We had an agreement.** If I let you stay for the weekend, then you had to get back to the White House before the Press Corp arrives today. We shook on it and everything!"

" _I've got time._ "

"No, you don't. With the morning rush and the Press still lurking around, you're already late and as much as I'd like to play hooky with you, we both have work to do. You have to go and run the country and after I go to the dry cleaners, I need to go to OPA. I need to see what my Client Base looks like and I need to hear what Leo has planned next for us and... _ **Fitz**_..."

" _Hmm?_ "

"You're not playing fair."

" _ **You're**_ _one to talk about fair when you came out here in nothing but a robe._ "

"This is _**my**_ apartment. I can be in nothing but a robe. I can be in an evening gown or I can be naked if I want to be."

" _I choose naked._ "

"Of _**course**_ you do...if I promise to call you at lunch, will you get off of me?"

" _Nope._ "

" _ **Fitzgerald!**_ "

" _I don't want a phone call. I want to have a lunch date with you._ "

"And just _**how**_ are we supposed to explain that?"

" _You're my girlfriend coming to see me because you missed me..._ "

"You'd have to get off of me and leave like a responsible adult for me to actually miss you."

" _..._ _ **and**_ _we're planning our next move as a couple together. That's a perfect Spin and it even has the novelty of being the truth._ "

"...you have a valid point and a good idea. That annoys me."

" _No, it doesn't._ "

"No, it doesn't...okay, I will poke the bear and come see you at lunch."

" _And I thank you for your noble sacrifice, Ms. Pope._ "

Olivia grabbed one of the couch's accent pillows and walloped him a good one, much to his cackling delight. Chuckling, she stood up and gathered the tray holding their breakfast dishes. The tray had been resting in the space where the wine stained couch cushion used to be and they had set up camp on the living room floor. Someone had restocked her refrigerator and pantry so instead of having breakfast delivered, Fitz had made them french toast stuffed with sliced strawberries and cream cheese.

Olivia was in her pale yellow plush cotton robe and Fitz was dressed for work sans suit, tie, and shoes. Fitz being Fitz and them being them, breakfast had turned into them exchanging lingering kisses and him nuzzling her neck, right on the spot that made her toes curl.

If she could, she would keep him with her but the real world hadn't stopped just because they had let their Secret out. Things still needed to be done, clothes had to be put on, and hands needed to go back to chaste, sensible places. The Media was having a field day with her Interview and the focus, the condemnation was shifting away from her and onto Mellie.

Olivia estimated that she would break her silence within the next 24 hours, 36 being generous. For all of her talk of being a political animal and for all of the venom she spat, Mellie was a typical schoolyard bully. She could dish it out all day but she couldn't take it. As soon as her victims stood up against her, she was the wronged one and needed to be coddled. She'd feel the need to save face and get even or more accurately, pass the buck. After all, if she didn't, then Mellie would have to accept the full consequences of her actions and that just would not do!

Olivia was sure that the buck would promptly go to an already volatile and ticking Cyrus, which would make him unleash hell.

Cyrus actually did have political chops of his own but he was also a bully, a petty and scorched earth bully when he felt wronged.

Fitz firing him and Olivia refusing to help him before rightfully calling him out on his lies in front of a riveted national and international audience would have him seeing red.

The only threat bigger than a vengeful Cyrus Beene to herself and Fitz was a vengeful Rowan.

Fitz's Press Conference and her Interview had taken away a lot of their ammunition but not all of it. There was Defiance. There was West Angola. Both of those things were disgustingly wrong and impeachable offenses, felony offenses. Mellie and Cyrus were typical parasites. If they had to die, then their host had to die or be irreparably damaged in the process. They weren't going to be reasonable. They weren't going to accept the new reality of a public and happy relationship between herself and Fitz, not without a fight. They were going to do whatever they could to stall the divorce process and turn the Media against them both, especially her.

Both of them saw Fitz as weak and spineless. To them, Olivia was the strong one, the rational one, the one who understood how the real world and the Greater Good worked. She was supposed to be their ally, their tool, their servant, and their key to all things Fitz with the power attached to him. Her new attitude was unacceptable to them, an incomprehensible betrayal. She was supposed to play her Role and now that she had stopped, now that she had "gone crazy" like Fitz, all Olivia was to them was a threat to be eliminated. And Fitz could go too, they supposed. He had committed political suicide by committing to Olivia so what use was he to them, anymore? He may be able to pull through the mess but since they wouldn't be able to benefit if he did, it didn't matter.

Olivia would take them out first and with prejudice.

Her Captivity had damaged her but it had also taught her what it really meant to survive. Sometimes, one had to get rough and take the shot without a second's hesitation. If there was a choice between giving up, between letting those who had you win, and fighting to the death, then it was always going to be the latter. Even if you failed, you had to go down swinging, especially if you had something or in her case, some _ **one**_ , worth the World to get back to and to protect.

After she turned on the dishwasher, Olivia made to continue their playful banter but the ringing of her landline cut her off.

She wished that she could ignore it. It was probably just another reporter looking for a scoop but she had to be sure. It could be a Client. It could be Abby. It could be one of her remaining Gladiators or Marcus or Leo. Hell, it may even be (temporary) White House Chief of Staff Lizzie North or Vice President Susan Ross looking for their Boss because he was _**so**_ late for work...

The fact that they and everyone else knew that they could call her any time of day or night and Fitz may be around was nice.

It was yet another mundane couple thing that she and he thought they would never get to do...

"What?"

" _Olivia_..."

Immediately, ice flooded her veins and she could feel her whole body stiffen.

"What do you want?"

Fitz came up behind her and she held the receiver tighter, using it as an anchor point.

" _I need to see you. I need to talk to you._ "

" **No.** "

" _Olivia, please..._ "

" _ **No!**_ "

She slammed the receiver down savagely and squeezed her eyes shut, trying valiantly to hold her tears back. She had already shed enough tears because of that bastard, damn it! He wouldn't get anymore from her! He didn't deserve anymore! He...he...

Fitz turned her around slowly and his thumbs gently wiped the tears away, his face the picture of dread tempered with concern.

"Who was on the phone, Livvie?"

He already knew. Just like she already knew. God, of course... _ **of course**_ , he would call now. Nothing good ever happened in her life without bad following promptly in its wake like a reversed Pandora's Box…

"...Rowan."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** **The show may have kept Liv and Fitz apart, sad, dark, and confused for the lion's share of Season 5 but we're not going to do that. The Olitz you read here will be strong, decisive, and damned precious together. This chapter is a blend of seriousness and the Olitz awesomeness that we were teased with and cruelly denied in 5A. This is the Olitz we deserve. This is the Olivia and Fitz solo that we deserve.**

 **But, I have to admit that this project was nearly scrapped altogether, not from a lack of interest between me and BythePen but…to be honest, it's hard to write for a show that one's become indifferent to. I still have deep love for Olitz but their show? Not so much. I still watch but more out of a car accident bottlenecker curiosity to see how it ends. I'm not nearly as invested as I was in SCANDAL's outcome as I used to be. It's sad but it's also freeing. Season 6 did come through in the end, which made us both happy but now that Season 7, the last season ever, is on the horizon...well, we'll see. No matter how things go in canon, we'll always have fanfic and that's comforting.**

 **Same as last time: A bolded letter at the beginning of a passage indicates a switch in writers. Pen has gone into Fitz's head and I've got Liv's POV. Sit back, grab some wine and popcorn, and enjoy the ride!**

 **Disclaimer for the full story: "Honestly, it's not mine!" ("ours!")**

 **45 minutes later...**

 **I** t had taken a while for her to stop shaking. The tears that Fitz had wiped away hadn't been joined by more but there was a heavy sadness weighing down on her. It was reminiscent of the time when Edison had proposed and Defiance had been on the verge of coming out. She felt unstable, out of control in all of the worst ways. Laying in her bed, Olivia had tried to hide from the world then and she would admit that she was doing it again.

What was the old saying? One step forward and two steps back? It was applying to the current situation. She had made so many leaps forward in such a brief period of time, Rowan's call had been like hitting a brick wall at full speed. Knowing Rowan as she did, he had probably timed his call to yank the rug out from under her. He was in prison but he wasn't living under a rock. He had to know what was going on. He had to know that she was breaking free of the mental prison he had helped create. She was moving forward, trying her best to be happy and live her life on her own terms. Rowan made no secret of his disapproval of Fitz or of her being in love with him and anyone else in general. According to Rowan, love was nothing but a weakness, an obstacle to achieving greatness, and as for Fitz? Olivia knew that her father in name only would rather see her with a rabid dog than with Fitz.

Fitz was made of light and Rowan was made of darkness. Fitz loved her as she was (and sometimes despite who she was) and Rowan didn't. To Rowan, she was merely an extension of himself, a puppet to be used, and now that she had cut the strings, now that she had in his eyes committed the ultimate betrayal, she had to be punished. He had to burst her bubble and trip her up. Rowan wanted to see her fall, see her fail, see her burn...he didn't love her. He didn't love anyone but himself and Power.

He wasn't reaching out to her out of remorse or fear. He was trying to regain Power over her, control over her...

What exactly did Rowan want? What was he after this time? What was his new play and endgame? Was he really expecting her to just drop everything and help him after everything he had done to her? Was he really so arrogant and deluded? What did he want? How could she keep him from getting what he wanted? Would anyone else be hurt or killed? God, she hoped not! There had been so much blood, so much innocent blood spilled. Olivia didn't want to be a part of any of it, anymore. All she wanted was to make a good, balanced, and happy life for herself. She just wanted to have peace. Was that so much to ask?

The sound of familiar voices broke through her reverie...

 _"She shouldn't go anywhere near him! It's probably a setup, anyway..."_

 _"Did she say anything else after she hung up on him?"_

 _"No. She came back here to lay down and I called you. I'm supposed to be at the White House, now but I didn't want to leave her alone..."_

 _"You did good. I would've been here sooner but Jake jumped in the car with me and wouldn't get out. I could've shot him and left him in the parking garage but she said no more wet work. Why did you get in the car? Why are you still even in DC at all? You should get out of town and get out of the country while you still can."_

 _"I'm worried about her!_ _ **You're not the only ones who love her!**_ _"_

 _"You may_ _ **think**_ _that you love her but that doesn't mean that she would want you here. Why would she want you here? You have no place here. You're not a real friend. You're not family and you're not her boyfriend. She has me and Quinn and Abby and she's finally got Fitz openly and for keeps. She doesn't love you. She only kept you around because she couldn't have him. She said it on Monday, remember? Plus, like or not, you're still active B613. Liv hates active B613 people, except for Quinn and Charlie. No, not Charlie. Nobody likes Charlie, except for Quinn."_

 _"And I bet that just_ _ **burns**_ _you, doesn't it? How are your wife and son doing, by the way?"_

 _"You son of a..."_

 _"If you're going spend the whole time bickering instead of helping, then you need to get out now! Olivia doesn't need any more stress, especially from people who claim to love her! Rowan's bad enough!"_

Having heard enough, Olivia sat up slowly and the 3 men in her doorway looked at her like she was going to shatter into a thousand pieces before their very eyes. She felt that way, honestly but she wouldn't give Rowan the satisfaction of doing so. She had been so strong and decisive lately. She had made so much progress in so little time and she wouldn't allow Rowan to bring her down.

"Livvie?"

"I'm going to go see him."

"When?"

"Today. We'll have to rain check on that lunch date."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"Honestly, yes but you have to get to the White House and I need to face Rowan on my own. If I bring you or anyone else with me, he'll accuse me of hiding. He'll say that I'm weak. **I'm not weak.** Huck, take Jake and go back to OPA. I'll check in with you later."

 _ **/**_

"Name?"

"Olivia Pope."

"Who are you visiting this morning and what is your relation to the inmate?"

"I'm here to see Eli Pope. He's my father."

The television behind the receptionist's counter was playing BNN and a clip of her Interview was playing, split screen with footage from Fitz's Press Conference. The bottom screen ticker read: **"What is next for #Olitz?"** The footage was replaced with a split screen close up still shot of Doux Bebe and the Eisenhower Pin as she signed in. After that image came a still shot of their arrival to OPA, Fitz pressing a kiss to her forehead as she smiled at him like he hung the moon and stars...

Eyes lingered on her as she sat in the waiting area. A trio of women waiting in line to check in were whispering rapidly and one of them took a picture of her with her phone. Olivia kept a calm face and slowly crossed her legs, adjusting her laminated visitor's badge so it was straight.

Like she had for her and Fitz's OPA debut and the Interview, she used her appearance as armor. Forgoing the flat iron, she had put her hair in a side ponytail, still refusing to hide her face and had chosen a matte pink lipstick for her lips. A pair of black slacks and a dove gray boat necked sweater was topped by a short white trench coat he outfit was finished by a white diamond pendant, her Ring, and a pair of classic 5 inch pointed toed heels on her feet, the color and design of the American flag. The shoes were an even more deliberate choice. It would be like a layered slap to the face for Rowan. He justified the majority of his actions as patriotism and it would salt the deep wounds that her relationship with Fitz inflicted on him.

It was a petty gesture but it would needle Rowan and that was exactly what she wanted. Olivia wanted Rowan to be squarely focused on her because then, he would monologue, giving her words that she could use against him. His last gloating monologue to her about him being "a doddering old man" instead of Command had planted the seed in Huck's mind that grew into him being where he was now. If she could push him into doing it again, then perhaps she and the others would be able to go on the offensive effectively. Rowan had been crippled but he needed to be taken out for good.

 **He needed to die.**

A regular prison wouldn't hold him forever and trying to prosecute him for treason had ended up in the slaughter of the 17 jurors. Even if Mellie hadn't given Rowan the names, he would've gotten to them. Rowan was the embodiment of the saying: Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely. B613 had begun as a small Dark Ops unit and had snowballed into an unwieldy, Hydra like beast that fed off of the legitimate government with impunity. Rowan had risen to the top of the Organization and had made it his own toy to play with. The fact that it was still reeling with him imprisoned proved that and it provided hope.

If Rowan died, then B613 would die or at least be able to be taken over by the legitimate government so it could still be of use.

Rowan's death would also provide a measure of peace to many people, including herself.

Olivia had once called the man the thing that went bump in the night and it was an apt description, even now...

"Olivia Pope?"

She stood up and followed the massive Nordic looking guard down a long corridor. The corridor was brightly lit by fluorescent lights and the walls were grayish white, the linoleum floor a sickly shade of beige. Coming to a set of blue doors, Olivia stepped through and met her father's bloodshot gaze immediately. Following the guard, she stopped at his claimed corner table, taking him in.

Rowan looked...small. He was in the ugly orange jumpsuit typical of prisoners and his salt and pepper hair was completely silver, now. It was cut short as usual but not as neatly. He had lost weight and sleep during his confinement and he just looked...small. For the longest time, Olivia had seen her father in name only as a larger than life figure, even before she found out about his second life and first love as Command. Once she found out the truth, he had become a monster, a dragon, a rabid beast who would destroy her and everyone that she loved. But, now? He was just a small man. He was a small, hateful, sad little man who was locked not just in a physical prison but in a mental one as well.

The chains securing his hands clinked as he looked away from her and Olivia followed his gaze to the television at the front of the room, listening to her firm yet tearful voice, taking in the utterly soft expression on her face...

 _"...I want painful, difficult, devastating, life changing and affirming love and that's with him. I don't just want to be happy. I want to have joy. Joy is with Fitz. My heart is with Fitzgerald Grant III and that is where it's going to stay._ _ **That**_ _is why I'm still with him..."_

In her periphery, Olivia saw a tic in Rowan's jaw and she suppressed the urge to laugh uproariously at the sight. Another part of why he was so angry at her was that she had failed to behave in the way that he had come to anticipate her to. He had been expecting her to keep hiding, to be content with maintaining the longtime status quo. Rowan had expected her to do what he did when he won, rest on her laurels, secure that he had control of the situation. Instead, she was shaking everything up. She was letting go of her infamous Olivia Pope control and committing the ultimate Pope family sin: showing and embracing weakness.

Pulling out the chair, Olivia removed her jacket and draped it over the back before sitting down, tenting her fingers and recrossing her legs. Rowan kept staring at the television and she sighed softly before rolling her eyes. Of course, he would make her be the one to break the silence.

Just like she had inherited her hubris and sadistic streak from her father, it seemed that she had also inherited his pettiness.

"Did you watch the Interview on Friday?"

"...not by choice. It seems that I'm the only person in the world who hasn't been enchanted by your little Romeo and Juliet story."

"I never understood why Romeo and Juliet are considered the ultimate love story. I mean, they _**died**_ and not only did they die, they died young, unnecessarily, and they took people with them. How is that romantic? That's like considering Bonnie and Clyde romantic or Gatsby and Daisy. I suppose a case could be made for Fitz and I being like Cleopatra and Marc Antony but there's no Julius Caesar in our story unless you count Jake and I don't. He doesn't matter."

"He mattered to you a month ago."

"He didn't matter to me nearly as much he hoped and you planned for him to. What do you want from me, Rowan?"

"...I need your help. News of my incarceration has reached some less than reputable ears and there's a target on my back. You and your little Gladiators and Ballard were so consumed with getting rid of me, with slaying the Dragon, that you forgot that there are worse people out there, people who will take the Power I had and do great harm to the Republic and the Free World itself, including your precious Fitzgerald. "

"There's always a bigger and badder monster. That's just how nature works. What do you expect me to do for you? You're an arrogant old black man sitting in federal prison for embezzling billions of dollars from a National Institution. Even if I wanted to get you out of here, it would take me years to do it and why do you even need my help, anyway? Shouldn't you already have a plan?"

"The fact that I'm still sitting here answers your questions, Olivia."

That pointed barb had her made her snort and if looks could kill, she knew that she would be a smoldering pile of ash.

"You find the fact that my life is in danger amusing?"

"Yes, I do. I mean, you were _**Command!**_ You had the whole world on a string and you need my help to get out of here. That is funny. What's also funny is that you honestly think that I'm going to help you. Why should I?"

"I am your father."

"And? You didn't care much about family when you assigned more than one of your operatives to sleep with me and when I was Taken, when I was on the auction block, you were nowhere to be found. You didn't even try to help me. Everyone else did, even Mom for a price but you were perfectly content to be fishing up in Maine while it all went down."

"I told you that I removed my protection from you. You didn't want it anymore so I took it away."

"...you still haven't answered my question. What do you expect me to do to help you?"

"Isn't it obvious? Use your influence in the White House."

" **'Use my influence'**...that's a nice way to phrase it. That's not going to happen. Can you just imagine how that conversation would go? 'Babe, could you please issue a pardon to the power mad bastard who ordered the traitorous bastard to murder your firstborn in cold blood?' Fitz loves me but love would not cover that and I'm not going to help you behind his back. You don't have anything worth that."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I am on the verge of having the life I've desperately wanted with the man I've loved for over half of a decade and I made a promise to that man and more importantly to myself that I wouldn't do anything else to purposely jeopardize our future. Whatever you have is not worth breaking that promise."

"There will be an Impeachment process started. There will be secrets unearthed, all of the stones overturned to reveal the filth underneath. I have Information that can stop it from happening. The information in those Files you were so enamored with is in my head. I know all of the dirty little secrets and I can make your and your manchild's looming problems disappear..."

"...by creating the biggest and most dangerous problem of letting you loose. Do you really expect me to believe that you would just go off into the sunset if you got out? No, you wouldn't. You would want your Power back and you would want revenge, revenge that would definitely involve blood being shed, blood that would most likely belong to me. No, thank you. I'll take my chances with the Committee. Besides, most of my livelihood is unearthing, hiding, and exploiting people's dirty little secrets. I'm very good at it. I don't need your mind. I've got my own and I have good people working with me. I'm sure that whatever we find will be better than what was in your Files."

"Olivia, if I stay in here, I will be dead before Christmas. Can you really sit there and tell me that you can live with that?"

"Yes, I can. Rowan, your death stopped being considered a bad thing to me a long time ago. You have proven to be deceitful, arrogant, bloodthirsty, and just plain crazy. Yes, you are my father and that _**does**_ count for something but as long as you're alive, the people I love will always be in danger. Plus, you've proven more than once that family ties won't stop you from hurting me and you _ **have**_ hurt me. Just because you've never shot or stabbed me doesn't mean you haven't hurt me. You've damaged me and others, some beyond repair. I don't want anyone else to be hurt or damaged by you or those loyal to you ever again. The only way to guarantee that is if you're dead."

In the wake of her last statement, Olivia finally got the crack in the calm facade she had been waiting for. Instead of the expected rage, though, there was fear in his facial features. The fear was genuine but she took his reasoning in with a grain of salt. The fact that there were "less than reputable" people gunning for Rowan didn't shock her a bit. He had built his Empire on blood, terror, and manipulation. Nobody appreciated that and his imprisonment felt like a liberation, a long awaited opportunity for change that was to be seized with both hands. It was just like with her but on a grander, darker scale. Olivia was content to leave Rowan where he was for the sake of her own sanity and for love.

The ones after him wanted to keep him where he was because it would be easier to take him out. He wasn't afraid for the Republic or the Free World. He wanted to save his own skin. After years of pulling puppet strings, years of having the Power to take or spare lives with a simple gesture, he was on the other side of the situation and he couldn't handle it. He had only been in prison for a month, _**less**_ than a month, and he was already trying to tap out.

 **Karma was a bitch.**

" _You._.. _you can't mean that, Livvie_."

"I _**do**_ mean it and _**don't**_ call me Livvie. **I stopped being your Livvie when you stopped being my father**. If you're really in trouble, which I have my doubts about, then it's your own fault so you're the one who is going to have to find a way out of it. Rowan, I'm sure that there's someone out there who is still afraid or awed of you enough to help you and if not? You were Command for at least 20 years. That doesn't happen without intelligence and cunning. Make use of it and get yourself free. Best of luck to you."

"Olivia...Olivia, please...you can't just abandon me! You can't just walk away!"

"Why not? You did it to me for years and I turned out just fine. Well, kind of. I'm still a work in progress. Goodbye, Rowan. I'll tell your future son in law hello for you."

"Olivia? Olivia, listen to me...Olivia, you can't just...Olivia! _**Olivia!**_ "

Two guards stopped him from lunging across the table to grab her and as he struggled with them, yelling her name, she walked out of the doors. It was just as satisfying as leaving him behind in the jail she and Jake had been hastily thrown in, thanks to Cyrus. Actually, it was more satisfying. She was walking away and leaving him behind. She had gotten valuable Intel and she got to rub his nose in the situation. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. Less than a month before, he was Command, the cream of the crop, the Man with a Plan and now, he was nothing. He had lost his Power, his freedom, and now he was reduced to begging for help from his "wayward daughter", help that he wasn't going to get. She wasn't wayward or stupid or weak. She was strong, a Gladiator, a brave woman instead of a scared little girl. Really, she was...

The Press was waiting for her outside. Of course, they were. She was also sure that the picture that had been taken of her in the waiting area had gone very viral. The President's Mistress, the inevitable new Mrs. Grant (Pope-Grant!) had gone to visit her father in prison, a father who was responsible for one of the biggest heists in the history of DC's finances like a dutiful daughter. That was perfect to add to the growing pro-Olitz narrative and another point in her favor for her personal Optics.

 _ **"What did your father think of your BNC Interview? Does he approve of your relationship with President Grant?"**_

 _ **"Does President Grant plan to visit him with you next time?"**_

 _ **"There have been rumors of Senator Grant filing an alienation of affection lawsuit against you. Care to comment on that?"**_

 _ **"Ms. Pope, can we get a picture? Ms. Pope..."**_

Climbing into her dark gray SUV, she closed and locked the doors before driving away, nearly mowing over a few of the more persistent paparazzi. She was looking forward to when her "celebrity" status died down enough for her to go out without attracting a mob of reporters. Olivia was used to dwelling in the background and her livelihood depended heavily on being able to do so. The fishbowl would never go away fully, even if god forbid, she and Fitz split up again, but still...

Checking the dashboard clock, she saw that it was 12:05PM. It would take about a half hour to get back to DC. Her mind told her that she needed to go to OPA to see what was going on but her heart? Her heart and her troubled spirit wanted to go to the one person where she felt safest.

Activating the Bluetooth function, she tapped the dash monitor for Speed Dial 3.

 _"Hello, Ms. Pope."_

"Hi, Charlotte. Is he busy?"

 _"He's in a meeting right now but I'm sure he would take your call. Would you like me to redirect you?"_

"No, thank you. Please let the front gates know that I'm on my way to see him. My ETA should about 1:00, 1:15 if there's traffic."

/

 **W** hile it had only been a few hours since he had last seen her, Fitz missed Olivia. He was getting spoiled by spending nights with her. Sure, he had gone years without being next to her as often as he would have liked, but their weekend in Vermont and their more frequent time together was such a blessing. He felt antsy for most of the day. His worry about her visiting her father nagged at him. Rowan was a dangerous man. He was behind bars, where he needed to be, but that didn't soothe Fitz's anxiety about Olivia being in the same room with him. Most of Rowan's power was in his words and the way he used them to influence others. While he wouldn't lay a hand on her, he worried that he would use his gift of gab to sway Olivia down another path of action. A path that didn't involve her being in a relationship with the President of the United States. He worried that the progress that they had made would diminish. He wished she would have let him send an agent with her. With their relationship public, he didn't like her venturing out on her own. It didn't feel safe anymore. Whether she liked it or not, he would be putting an agent, most likely two, on a detail for her. She was finally his and he would be damned if that put her in danger. Olivia would not be harmed, not on his watch.

Though, his morning had been full of meetings. North, though not nearly as skilled at her job as Cyrus, tried to talk Fitz into a less public approach to his relationship with Olivia. She was promptly shut down. No more running, no more hiding. They had decided together. Fitz didn't miss Abby's nod and small smile of approval at his words. The poor redhead had her hands full dealing with the press corp. Nearly all of the questions and gossip involved Fitz and Olivia, but she had held her composure and done her job perfectly. Fitz was proud to have her as a part of his staff. The fact that he and Olivia could trust her was important. They knew that she would handle the public side of their relationship respectfully and as they directed her to. Fitz knew that she was the perfect person to handle the job.

It was lunchtime, but they were still discussing matters. Fitz pinched the bridge of his nose while he listened.

"Mr. President, with all due respect, you shouldn't flaunt your relationship. Now isn't a good time for your numbers to fall and with you still being married to the First Lady-"

"Let's get this clear right now. I'm going to do as I please in my relationship with Olivia. That is not up for discussion. Olivia and I are smart enough to not do anything that will get us into a mess that we can't handle."

"But sir, the public opinion-"

"The public views us far more favorably than I could have hoped. I'm not worried about that. Frankly, I don't give a damn what the public thinks about it. It's not going to change the way I feel about Olivia. I'm more worried about the Impeachment hearings. My resignation hasn't been accepted, so I'm sure the Impeachment process is in the works. It's something we need to prepare for. We need-."

And just then, what he needed, or rather _**who**_ he needed, let herself into the Oval. He looked over at her and automatically smiled, but his face fell slightly at her somewhat numb expression. She looked exhausted, drained, but not altogether upset. It was hard to read where her mind was, but he knew that they needed to talk. Privately. He needed to know how the visit with her father had gone.

"We need the room, please."

North and Abby gathered their papers and shuffled from the room quickly, giving the couple their space. Fitz met her halfway across the room and cupped her face in both hands, kissing her sweetly.

"Hi."

 _ **/**_

" **H** e wanted me to help him get out of prison, Fitz. Not only that, he felt entitled to my help and I couldn't even... _ **why?**_ Even if he does have information that can shut down the Impeachment, why would I even _**think**_ of helping him after all the damage he's done? What sense would that make?"

"He's your father, Liv. He was counting on that plus his information to make you feel like you had no choice but to help him."

"I don't need Rowan's Intel. I... _**we**_ can find it ourselves. Between the two of us, there's enough brains and security clearance to get whatever we need to keep you in Office. Like it or not, he is my family but why should that matter to me? Family ties didn't matter to him when he assigned his operatives to fuck and stalk me. Familial loyalty didn't matter to him when he ignored the fact that I was Taken. Common decency didn't matter to him when he...he killed your firstborn. He killed Gerry and Harrison and at least a 2 dozen others in the past year alone. I was sitting at that table with him, looking at him and listening to him make his demands and all I could think was: 'How did this happen? How am I related to him? Why am I related to him? _ **Am**_ I even related to him?' I should get a DNA test. Rowan was nothing but a deep cover Op to Maya and I know that she was sleeping with at least 2 other men during their time together, including her Handler. If I'm not biologically his, it would explain why Rowan could be so cruel to me. No one is kind to the cuckoo in their nest."

"Livvie..."

"It's okay, Fitz."

"No, it's not."

"It's not but I won't let him win. You shouldn't either."

In response to that, he offered her the last forkful of pasta primavera and Olivia accepted it immediately. After she had taken 3 drinks of scotch in a row, he had called down to get her something to eat before putting his arm around her. Instead of deflecting or trying to pull away, Olivia had melted into his side, drawing her knees up onto the sofa. The day wasn't even over yet and she had been on quite an emotional roller coaster. Joy with Fitz in the morning, despair after the phone call, resolve at the prison, and now...now, she felt melancholy, relieved, numb...coming here had been the right decision to make.

Fitz was worried about her, terrified for her and their future, but he wouldn't let it rule his actions towards her. He wouldn't scold her for going near Rowan in the first place nor would he encourage her to bolt. He listened and he supported her. He encouraged her to think for herself and to be strong. He understood her better than anyone in the world, including herself. Fitz always took good care of her, the best care of her, when she allowed him to.

Allowing him to felt pretty damned nice.

"So, what was _**your**_ meeting about?"

"Lizzie thinks that we shouldn't be so open with our relationship. She's concerned about my Poll numbers and about Mellie."

"Your Poll numbers are fine and Mellie doesn't matter. Well, she does since you're still legally married to her but we've already established a narrative. What about the Impeachment hearings? Have they formed a committee yet?"

"Not officially but I can think of who would be eager to be involved. For some odd reason, people just don't like me."

"Give me their names. I'll... _ **we'll**_ take care of them. People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones or be naked on their knees. If we can Handle the leaders, everyone else will fold quickly."

 _ **/**_

" **W** e'll Handle it," he agreed with a slight nod, pulling her tighter into his side. "I'm not worried. I meant what I said at your office. I'd love to stay in office, but being with you means more to me. I'd rather be with you than be president. If they accept the letter of resignation, if they move forward and succeed with the Impeachment, that's fine. As long as I have you by my side, I'm happy."

Then, before she could say a single word in protest, he kissed her. Slowly. His tongue dipped into her mouth, drawing a soft moan from her. She tasted like his high-priced scotch and oregano from the pasta dish and he could do nothing but smile as he released her lips. Fitz took in her face, his eyes tracing over ever curve of her features. She was lovely, and she was his.

Her visiting Rowan made him uneasy. The man, half of the cause of her creation, had caused them more than enough heartache to last a lifetime. He was the source of their misery, time and time again. If Fitz had his way, Rowan would never lay eyes on Olivia again unless it was seeing her either on the television or in a photograph captured by the media. In his opinion, he had lost that right. Olivia's presence was to be treasured. It was a lesson that Fitz had learned the hard way over the years. She was not a pawn to be played as a means to an end, which was exactly as Rowan had used her in the past. With an agenda. Those days were over, and it seemed that Olivia agreed with him on that. They didn't need Rowan and therefore he would not be able to utilize Olivia or her relationship with Fitz to achieve any goals that he might have in mind. His scheming and planning would have to take place without the involvement of either of them. However, that didn't eliminate the fear that settled and rumbled deep in Fitz's gut. More than ever, he felt the need to protect Olivia and his children from 'Command' at all costs.

The evil hands of the man who had once puppeteered their lives needed to stay as far from them as possible if they wanted the future that they had planned. They had already sacrificed too much to him, the man who had declared himself as a god to the Republic. It was their time to be in control, and Fitz would be damned if he allowed Rowan to wield influence over Olivia to squander away what they had worked so hard to achieve. He would watch carefully and trust that Olivia would let him know if things changed. If Rowan started to weigh down on her. If she needed him to take action. He would trust her to keep him in the loop until she gave him a reason to think otherwise, their past be damned.

It was only lunchtime, but the day already felt so full and heavy. Fitz was ready to hang up his presidential duties for the day and curl up in bed with his love. The road they were traveling on was exhausting, but he knew the destination would be well worth it. His lips pressed sweet kisses over her face. Her nose, her eyelids, her cheekbones, her chin. Showering her with the affection that he felt for her. Reassuring her that he was there and that they were in the fight together.

"It's going to be okay, Livvie. I promise."

"...I believe you."

* * *

 **One Week Later...**

" **A** ll right, now that you two are out and proud with a 62% approval rating, we need to get you two out there. You got off to a great start with the South Lawn and the Kiss but..."

"We need to go on our first public date."

"You need to go on your first public date. So, I've got a few ideas. A night at the Opera, a tour of the Monuments and since you both like Mediterranean food, I was thinking of calling Komi and reserving..."

"Don't bother, Leo. It's Handled."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Fitz and I will be sitting court side at the upcoming Wizards vs. Clippers basketball game this Saturday. It's been cleared with the Secret Service and MPD will be providing additional manpower to keep us safe. The Verizon Center will be providing us with complementary refreshments and the team owner was happy to provide us with passes to meet with the players before the game. Apparently, he voted for Fitz twice and he's been 'Team Olitz' since Fitz leaked my name before Mellie could. Go figure."

"...damn. That's...that's perfect."

"Fitz loves basketball and he loves to spend time with me. He'll get to do both and it'll be fun. Don't tell him. It's a surprise."

 _ **/**_

She was no stranger to being in the West Wing. In fact, Olivia had been in every part of 1600 Penn at some point. Whether it was as Director of Communications Pope, as The Formidable Olivia Pope, or as Livvie, 1600 Penn was as familiar to her as her reflection in the mirror. However, there was a tangible difference now. Everyone knew the Truth about her and Fitz, the no holds barred truth. Jeannine had mentioned that everyone had known about Fitz having an affair with someone, about Fitz being in love with another woman, but to have confirmation, to know exactly who their Boss was with was blowing some minds.

There had been double takes, knowing smirks, subtle thumbs ups, and some lightning quick glares from certain young female staffers. The glares were utterly jealous and Olivia suppressed the urge to smirk at them. She wasn't proud of her and Fitz's origins but she certainly was proud to love him. She had claimed the Alpha male or rather, finally stopped running away from the Alpha's steadfast devotion and no one else would get their hands on him. Olivia had been given the unexpected gift of another chance for a brand new day with Fitz and she wouldn't squander it this time, not on purpose, anyway.

 **Go Big and Stay Home.**

Charlotte's station was empty and the side door to the Oval was wide open, showing Fitz reading at his desk. Bright sunshine poured through the windows of the Oval and she pursed her lips at the sight of his feet on top of the Resolute. Briefly, she thought about scolding him but that idea was quickly dismissed. The Resolute Desk had been the desk used by Kennedy and Clinton before him. Scuff marks from shoes were nothing compared to what or who must've gone down on top and beneath the American heirloom.

The memory of cool oak on her bare behind, of the pleased growls in response to her moaning out his new title as she came and came and came for him after their private Inaugural dance...

Olivia forced herself back into the present. She was there for a reason and it wouldn't do for her to get distracted before she accomplished her mission.

Stepping through the door, she closed it behind her firmly, turning the lock. As if drawn by a magnet, Fitz's attention went to her. Immediately, his face lit up in a broad smile and she returned it, walking to him after removing her pale gray trench. His feet were put down and Olivia didn't hesitate to kiss him hello, much to his delight. His dark gray suit jacket was off and he had removed his navy tie before undoing the top button of his white dress shirt. When he made to stand up, her hands went to his shoulders and pressed down firmly. If he wanted to, he could easily get up but Fitz was content to stay just where was, even more so when she matter of factly sat on his lap. Their outfits were very close to matching, only her slacks were pale gray and she wore a white sleeveless top with black embroidery at the hem.

"Hi."

"Hi. What's this about?"

"I can't come and visit my boyfriend during my lunch break?"

"I remember a certain someone comparing a visit like this to poking the bear not too long ago..."

"That was then, this is now. I have a surprise for you but if you're going to be difficult, I can leave..."

"Please don't. What's the surprise?"

Picking up the thick white envelope she had set down, Olivia handed it to him and climbed off of his lap while he opened it, anticipation bouncing through her veins. She kept her back to him, resisting the urge to kick off her black heels. She could only stay for a little while. Huck, Quinn, and Jake were looking into the alleged threats against Rowan and she was helping a Client via teleconference at 2PM DC time. Although the recovery was slower than she would like, Leo's words from before her Interview were holding water.

There were enough people around who were pragmatic and objective (not to mention, desperate...) enough to see her as more than 'the President's side chick' that her Client base was rebounding. Nothing major had come up yet, no one high profile like before but they would come back. They came back after her name was Leaked. They came back after her ill-advised flight to the Island. OPA would have to accept some rather sketchy Clients for a while to make the bills (Redwood Johnson still made her cringe...) but things weren't dire...

Frowning slightly, Olivia turned around and was confused at the look Fitz was giving her. The information and tickets for the Game were on his desk and she slowly advanced forward. Was he upset? Was he in shock? Had she overstepped a boundary? Fitz was usually the one who took the lead with gestures such as these but it was supposed to be new Era for them. Olivia could be sweet and romantic too, couldn't she? Was he so used to her being inscrutable? Was the bad pattern she had established between them rearing its ugly head again? Why wasn't he saying anything?

"I know how much you like the Clippers and Leo said that public opinion is favorable enough for us to go on a date without an angry mob forming so...if you don't like the idea, we can come up with something else together. I just...I wanted to do something nice for you and I know you're used to being the actively romantic one between us but I'm trying, I'm really trying, Fitz so..."

He crossed the distance between them with long strides and cut the insecure flow of words off with his mouth. Olivia responded immediately, swept along by his heat. Her feet left the ground and she held onto his shoulders tightly as he spun her around briefly.

"Fitz?"

"Our first date...", he sighed dreamily before pressing softer, quicker kisses to her smiling lips.

Olivia nodded in agreement and moaned as he drew their lower halves flush. Her knees were wobbling like a newborn calf's and she tilted her head up to accept the teasing, brushing kisses against her parted lips. Fitz had kissed her like this after she initially came home to DC. He had been so happy to see her, so raw with relief and anguish that she had even left in the first place. Telling him the truth about her departure, about how she hadn't left alone had been like throwing ice water on both of them.

She hadn't wanted to. She truly hadn't wanted to but had Fitz found out from a third party, things would've been much, much worse in the long run. That was the main reason about why he was so hurt about her role in Defiance so she had told him the truth. He had practically shoved her away and she could see him shut down then, hear the hurt in his voice as he dismissed her...this time was different. There were no secrets, no lies, no interlopers between them...he was kissing her so thoroughly because he was happy with her. She had made him happy. She had done yet another thing right between them.

She had initiated their next step out of the shadows. Going to a basketball game was one of the most public dates that one could do. Thousands of people in the Arena, hundreds of thousands watching on their televisions...once it came out that she and Fitz would be there, that number would increase exponentially. The President and his Mistress...The President and his Girlfriend, out and about together? That was just too much, especially given that they were far from in the clear.

Mellie had yet to sign the divorce papers and was finally planning on making a statement of her own. The post Interview scrutiny had become too much for her, which was funny since it barely lasted a week. She should try dealing with that sort of thing, day in and day out for over half a decade, especially if much of the venom came from within. Anyway, Mellie's Press Conference would be on Sunday at high noon. Coupled with that, an Impeachment Committee had officially been assembled and the hearings would begin soon. Subpoenas were being issued, court orders drafted, question lists were being created...Olivia had chosen the coming Saturday game on purpose.

It was a sign to those who stood against them. She and Fitz were staying the course. They were going to be united and live their lives. They... _ **she**_ would not be intimidated or bullied into submission. They would fight to be together through all their real world problems and win or if they lost, they would go down swinging. If she and Fitz fell apart again, Olivia wanted to be able to look at the situation and truly say that they had tried.

There had already been enough regrets in her Handling of them. She didn't want to make new ones.

His hands slid underneath her blouse and she whimpered as he toyed with the clasp of her bra.

 _"Can you stay?"_

 _"...I shouldn't..."_

 _"But, **can** you?"_

She checked the time on the wall mounted clock over his shoulder. 12:05...when she and Fitz were fast, their intimacy usually took about 20 minutes and with traffic, the drive to OPA took 20-25. If she didn't let him distract her in all the ways she adored afterwards, she'd be able to get back to work with 15 minutes to spare before the teleconference. And she had locked the door...and he was her boyfriend, her boyfriend who smelled really good, felt really good, and she hadn't been able to touch him in days. Of course, there had been much longer separations in the past (6 months, 10 months, 2 months, 6 weeks, and the last one had been 4 and a half months...) but things were different, now. Being 'out and proud' had given them leeway. No longer did they have to operate with memories and bittersweet late night phone calls. They could just.. **.be**.

"I have to be back in my office by 1:45 and we can't on your desk...well, not in broad daylight, anyway."

The grin he gave her would put the Cheshire Cat's to shame and she giggled quietly as he led her to the small private office attached to the Oval.

 ** _/_**

Her phone alarm sounded and their lips parted reluctantly, both of them panting like they had just run a marathon. Her phone was in her coat, which was in the other room. The alarm had shut itself off but would go off again in 10 minutes, louder and more insistent. She had to get ready to go. She had set the alarm for 12:30. She still had to drive during D.C.'s lunch hour. She had a teleconference to do and information to find about Rowan's adversaries, about those who wanted to impeach Fitz for loving her openly. She had many things to do and now, she had a date to prepare for.

She had to dismount him, smooth the wrinkles out of her clothes, fix her hair, and get ready to go. She had to leave...

She didn't want to. God, she didn't want to!

Raising up on her forearms, Olivia took him in. Fitz's eyes were loosely shut and his lips were parted, swollen and trembling slightly. His thick curls were rumpled from her hands and she bit back a whimper as the tip of his tongue went over his lower lip. All she had to do was lean forward and that lower lip would be hers again, the lower and the upper and his wonderful tongue would be hers. Olivia had tempered the passion between them, asking shyly if they could just kiss for a while. Their lovemaking was incredible (now more than ever...) but one of her fantasies was to kiss him like a boyfriend, to make out with him.

From the outside looking in, a person would say that the fantasy was tame, lame even but they knew better. Fitz knew better than anyone how big it was that they could kiss in the broad daylight. For years, the idea of choosing to be discreet instead of having to be seemed to be an impossible dream. Circumstances prevented it, Olivia had prevented it, more than once and now...now, they could do anything they wanted.

Fitz being Fitz had embraced her idea fully and up until her phone went off, they had kissed and necked like teenagers.

In fact, she could feel the beginnings of a renewed and impressive hickey on her collarbone. There was one at the base of his throat and his shirt had been unbuttoned to reveal a bit of his chest hair. Olivia adjusted her askew top and bra before taking a hair tie out of her pocket. Her previously sleek curls were tangled from his hands and it would take too long to fix before the teleconference. Putting her hair up would solve that problem and would look chic, as well. Her new Client was part of a modeling agency and would appreciate her keeping up with the trends...

"Let me do it."

After passing the hair tie to Fitz, she stood up slowly and turned around, gathering her hair to one side. His fingers were gentle as he worked and soon, she had a nice ponytail, one that could be used with a sweater to cover her neck. Nodding in approval, she turned around and met his gaze. He was happy. His eyes were content and his face peaceful. He was happy. She had made him happy.

She was so glad to see him happy again...

 _ **/**_

 **The Night of the Game...**

 **E** ven as time continued to pass after their headfirst dive into a public relationship, Fitz wondered if he would ever grow used to the feeling of freedom that it gave them. He had worried in the past that going public would tame their passion, but if anything it had fanned their flames. Every chance they got, they were touching, kissing, making love if they had enough time. But sometimes, they just held each other. Sometimes he just looked into her eyes, taking in the reality of the moment. But it was never enough time, those moments. He ached for her even more when they were apart, but he doubted that his yearning would ever tire. From their first touch onward it was a fever that couldn't be chilled. An affliction of the best sort. An addiction that kept him going back for more, never getting enough. His love. His Olivia.

They spent most of the weekdays apart, save for a meal here and there, but the weekends they saved for themselves. Sometimes they stayed in the Residence and sometimes they went to her apartment. They tried to keep it equal, wanting to remain on level footing that didn't give either of them an upper hand. It was a mistake of their past that Fitz didn't intend on repeating. They were equals, both lovers and the best of friends. Power would never drive a wedge between them again. Their happiness was worth so much more.

A domestic bliss filled him as he stood in the massive closet of the Residence, shrugging on his royal blue LA Clippers polo, paired perfectly with his pressed khaki slacks and brown loafers. He was going on a very public date with the love of his life, to see one of his favorite sports teams. It was the epitome of male contentment. They may have a rocky road ahead of them, but the simple fact that they were able to share a public evening together was miles ahead of where they had ever been before. Slow progress was far better than none at all and he couldn't be happier that they were finally able to give themselves a real chance as a couple. It was how things were meant to be.

"You almost ready, Livvie?"

He poked his head into the bathroom to see how her primping was coming, a soft grin on his mouth. When he had the chance, Fitz loved to sit and watch her get ready. Her hair routine, the minimal make-up that she applied. He preferred her natural and naked beneath his sheets, but he knew that she loved to get all dolled up and beautiful when she would be seen by more eyes than his. Even if his were the only ones that mattered.

 _ **/**_

 **S** etting down her bottle of Chanel No 5, Olivia returned his smile and nodded, turning away from the sink to face him fully.

It was nice. Being able to be with him regularly, visiting and having him visit her regularly, openly was very nice. Their reminders of each other were no longer confined to a box of Trail mementos and bittersweet memories. There was tangible, present day evidence of Them everywhere. They would compare their schedules at the top of each work week and make sure that they could have at least one lunch date, whether it be in person or on the phone. A bottle of Aqua Velva aftershave was next to her mouthwash in her medicine cabinet. The cookie jar that Abby had given her long ago was now filled with Double Stuffed Oreos, his favorite junk food. Her clothes were in the Residence's Master Walk In Closet, not her whole wardrobe but at least a month's worth of full outfits, including her literal White Hat that David Rosen had gifted her. She'd leave an apple on the kitchen counter before she left for OPA and a gallon of TrueMoo chocolate milk was in the main Residence's refrigerator, right next to a bottle of red wine.

They were mingling their possessions, mingling their routines, just...making it work. They were really making it work as a public couple. Sometimes, there would be a miscommunication, a minor disagreement but they would resolve it quickly, resolve it as equals. They would listen, hear each other out, and then find middle ground. There had been a long overdue shift in their dynamics. Neither one of them had the upper hand. They were equal...level...sane...mature... _ **almost**_ normal. Olivia knew that she and Fitz would never be a truly normal couple. Their origins, their differences, the glare of the Public Eye prevented it but they were finally a good couple. They were stable and happy and just... **yes**.

They were finally, legitimately publicly together and now, they were going on a date! A _**real**_ date! Their _ **first**_ date!

"You're beautiful."

"So biased.", she accused lightly.

"I'm stating a fact, not an opinion, Livvie. You're beautiful."

Olivia had no shame in admitting that she Googled what would be appropriate date attire for a basketball game. The last time she had been to one was when she was a high school junior and although most of what she worn then was back in fashion, she still didn't want to screw up. Fitz would think she looked beautiful in a burlap sack but the World would be watching. They had managed to keep the Date out of the Press until that morning and the buzz generated was huge, especially since Mellie was scheduled to break her silence at high noon the next day. They were already going to be the Talk of the Town so the last thing she wanted to do was to open another avenue for criticism.

A common thread within the images were skinny jeans, a long top (without or without a graphic print), boots, a jacket, and some sort of headgear, typically a cap or beanie. Her jeans were black, her top royal blue (to match his polo), and she had picked her short beige Burberry trench to top it. She had chosen a white knit beanie for her headgear and her hair beneath was a cascade of soft springy curls, touching her shoulders and framing her face artfully. She had gone bold with her lipstick again, this time a matte plum and had finally mastered the cat-eye look for her eyeliner. All she had to do was put her boots on and she would be ready.

Fitz followed her to the sitting area across from his...their bed in the master suite and after she rolled on a pair of pink ankle socks, surprised her by kneeling down. What was he doing? They didn't have time for anything like what that position usually meant, now. They had to get to the Verizon Center and settle in before the gates opened to the Public. Instead of a private box, they would be court side so they had to get settled in so security could put the finishing touches on their plans. What was he doing?

"What are you...?"

Comprehension dawned as he grabbed her left boot and picked up the corresponding foot.

Unlike the last time he had done this, her boots were shin high with a 4 inch stiletto heel. They weren't bulky dark brown leather. Instead, they were beige suede with buckles and dark brown laces.

He also wasn't upset with her nor was she upset with him.

When he had put on the duck boots, she had been indignant at being summoned to the woods like a common criminal. He had been incensed not just for her taking on NSA whistle blower Artie Hornbacher's Case but also for refusing to communicate with him, for resuming communications with Edison Davis. There had been so much tension between them, sexual and otherwise and it had exploded within moments of them being together again. That was why she had been avoiding him. She had still been running away from him, running away from all the big scary emotions...

He had been gentle in his abrupt handling of her in the woods but now, he was slow, near reverent, Prince Charming with his Cinderella. His task completed, he pressed a quick kiss to the bend of her right knee before standing up. The boots put her lips in perfect range for his neck and she took advantage of that, pressing a quick kiss to his jugular before picking up her coat.

"Are you ready?"

She was more than ready. They were going on a date, a real date, their first date!

Finally.

"Let's do this."

 _ **/**_

The Pre-Game coverage was all about them.

Absorbed in her phone, she took in shots and footage of their arrival, their time in the locker room, finding their seats. The President and his Girlfriend was out on the town, enjoying a basketball game. Quick articles broke down her attire (with approval, thankfully) and she knew that Leo had a hand in them when it was mentioned that she had surprised him with the tickets. Fitz was currently surrounded by a knot of excited kids and their parents, looking thoroughly at peace when he picked up a cherubic blonde toddler that had his face painted in Wizard's colors.

The sight took Olivia back to The Trail, to the picnic, the phone call with Abby. She had said that Fitz had something that she could work with, that he had potential. It had been a layered statement. Not only was a good candidate, he was genuinely a good man. She had been harboring doubts about him until that moment, looking at him through Big Jerry tinted glasses. That had been a disservice to him. She had gone in expecting to deal with an entitled, self absorbed asshole and had gotten the opposite. She had gotten a good man, a good friend, the love of her life...

"Excuse me? Are you Olivia Pope?"

Looking away from Fitz, she saw a little girl that looked to be about 7 years old. She was in a blue polo shirt and black pants, a white sweater showing the name of one of the top Elementary schools in the city. Her black hair was up in two big Afro puffs and Olivia smiled at the sparkly pink glasses she was wearing, along with the butterfly shaped earrings in her ears.

"Yes, I am. What's your name?"

"Jacqueline Marie Walsh. I'm 8 and a half. Can I please have your autograph? My momma says that I should be like you because not only do you have your own job and own money, you're brave when it comes to love. Not enough people do that anymore."

 _ **/**_

Turning her head, she could see the laughter in his eyes and Olivia gave him a big smile in return, her cheeks stuffed with fluorescent red, white, and blue sweetness. Fitz chuckled as she took another heaping handful and she tilted the bucket of cotton candy in offering. The container was deep and she couldn't very well eat all its contents by herself. All right, that was a bald faced lie but when she ran extra miles in the park to burn it off, she wanted to be able to tell herself that she had tried to have a little self restraint. Gamely, Fitz took a big pinch of it and popped it in his mouth, chasing it with a sip of his bottled water.

 _ **/**_

Olivia wasn't one for sports unless she was participating in them but she could appreciate the skills, the teamwork on the floor. The athletes were bringing their A-Games and that was wonderful. Although, even if they were subpar, the night would still a great night because she was actually on a date with Fitz, a Fitz that was far more interested in her than the game...

"You know, if you were going to spend the whole time making eyes at me, we could've watched this at my apartment. Naked."

Instead of replying verbally, Fitz wrapped one of her long curls around his finger and gently tugged it, making it bounce back like a spring. Once it became clear that the Clippers were going to lose the game, Fitz's attention had left the action and fixated on her. He was turned in his seat towards her and she had shifted closer in response, any closer and she'd be on his lap.

She wouldn't be surprised if he tried to put her on his lap in the next few minutes and Olivia wasn't sure if she'd protest it. His lap was one of her favorite resting places but wouldn't it be too much, too soon? Yes, it would be. Their Star Crossed Lovers becoming Legitimate Narrative was still working like gangbusters but it was a balancing act. One wrong move, one ill-advised public kiss or touch and their support could dry up like the waters of Babylon. The Optics of it all...god, sometimes she wished that she could shut that part of her brain off permanently, that she could just go with the flow but she had to think about it. Not to say that Fitz was incapable of being grounded and objective when it came to them but overall, he was the Romantic, the Dreamer and she was the Realist, sometimes the Pessimist...up until recently, always the Pessimist, the Destroyer, the...

With a sad sigh, Olivia rested her head on his shoulder and he kissed her brow, picking up on her mood as always.

"I could never regret loving you. I regret how I used to Handle it."

 _ **/**_

 **T** he tone of the night was a step in the right direction for their relationship. Never before had they been able to so publicly flaunt their love for each other, and now that Fitz had felt the glory of that emotion, he never wanted to go back to the way they had lived before. There would be no returning to the dark days of their past. The pain, the frustration. The right way had finally arrived and given way to a peace that Fitz had never known. He only hoped that Olivia would eventually settle into the feeling as well.

He could sense her tension as the game neared its finish and he draped his arm around her shoulders as her head came to rest in its spot on his shoulder. He could feel her heavy heart in the way she breathed. Her mind was working when they were supposed to be relaxing and he so wished he could halt the hamster that was sprinting on the wheel. Her anxious nature was at her core and it was a demon that they would have to fight. Together, of course. He wouldn't let her do it on her own anymore. Not when they had made such strides of progress.

"Shh, baby. It's okay."

His lips pressed to her brow again sweetly. She wasn't lying, but the fact that they were there, in the Verizon Center, watching an NBA game together for all of the world to see showed that she was trying to change how she loved him. How she showed it and how she handled her love. The effort and willingness to be seen with him publicly. The playfulness and smiles. The interaction with her own little fan club that was quickly growing. He loved seeing her in a different light. She was trying, and that was the important thing. It was a process. He didn't expect her to be completely open and jumping in with both feet all at once. He didn't expect her mind to allow her to rest easily into their relationship immediately. But it would come with time. With patience and reassurance, she would settle. They would settle into the life that they were meant to live.

" _We're working on it_.," he assured her with a soft whisper into her ear.

 _ **/**_

 **T** hey had taken the court after the teams had withdrawn and most of the spectators had headed home. The remaining ones were kept at a very firm distance, halfway up the bleachers. There were Secret Service agents on both sidelines and MPD officers in each aisle. There were at least 2 sharpshooters at the ready up above and a Presidential caravan waiting to take them back to her apartment building. Nobody wanted another Shooting. Nobody wanted to have to say that the POTUS had died or been injured on their watch again, especially now that he introduced another element of danger into his life.

Her man was going to be the first sitting President to get a divorce while in office. He had embraced another woman as the love of his life not 24 hours after kicking his wife out of 1600 Penn. He was a WASP President openly in love with a black woman, a black woman who was formidable in her own right. Olivia knew that there were many people upset by the turn of events. Her and Fitz's relationship offended racists, sexists, those who had been left by a spouse...so many people. Would anyone be angry enough to take up arms? She hoped not but no longer would she chafe at the increased security around her. It had taken so long for them to get to this point, to this level of legitimacy, and Olivia would be damned if some "avenging" asshole with a gun or knife got to ruin it!

There had more than enough ruination to last a lifetime.

It was a time to consolidate, to build, to nurture, to just... **be**.

Part of being is taking the playfulness between herself and Fitz public. As soon as she came to center court, Fitz had started dribbling towards the basket behind her. Smoothly, Olivia stepped into his path and shifted into a blocking position, making a smirk curve his lips upwards.

"Well, what do we have here?"

"If you want to get to the basket, you'll have to go through me, Mister."

He cocked a challenging brow and made a sudden move to the left, hoping to throw her off balance.

Olivia had been anticipating that.

Quick as lightning, she batted the ball out of his hand and took possession before he could recover from the surprise. Her giggles were soft but the acoustics of the nearly empty Arena made them louder, warmer. Fitz grinned at her and lunged forward, going for either the ball or her.

He touched nothing but air.

She took a step backward and then jumped up, releasing the ball over his shoulder from half court. The orange orb arced beautifully through the air before going through the net with a swish. A delighted laugh escaped her and there was applause and whistles from the onlookers. Her smirk dropped as she took in the look on Fitz's eyes and she swallowed thickly.

Olivia knew that look. It was the look he had given her in that Iowa gymnasium. It was the look he gave her while she worked her magic on The Trail. It was the look he gave her when she was The Fixer, when he got to watch her dissect and Handle cases as easily as she breathed.

It was the look that he gave her before he'd kiss her, pounce on her, try to bury his whole self into her...

 _ **/**_

 **T** he playfulness that they were able to indulge in felt so refreshing to him. They had always enjoyed a similar sense of humor and often displayed it through small smirks and bright eyes when in mixed company, but to be able to drop their guard and actually have fun together was magical in its own right. They were both naturally competitive. Fitz had intended on a relaxed back and forth of shooting baskets, but she had taken a defensive stance in front of him. This time it was only a part of the game. Emotionally, she was standing bare before his eyes, which was a win in itself.

They were both sporty, one of the many things that they had in common. Olivia was a runner and swimmer and Fitz played basketball and tennis. They were in shape and agile. Or at least Fitz thought he was until Olivia dipped into his sideways motion and knocked the ball away mid-dribble before he could even think to dodge her. She always surprised him, in some of the cutest ways, which brought a smile to his mouth. She was adorable, and he just wanted to snatch her up and...

Damn, she was quick.

He growled as his lunge missed her by a good foot and she hopped backwards, planting her feet and launching herself gracefully up into the air to take her shot. Fitz watched as it met the net with ease and let his eyes shift slowly back over to her. His gaze held a mixture of amazement, lust, and adoration. Just as he had looked at her many times before over the years.

Slowly, he stepped over to her, making his motions look leisurely and relaxed so she wouldn't anticipate his next move. Once he had reached her, he grabbed her in his arms suddenly and tossed her over his shoulder with a grin. Never before would he have dared to do such a thing in public, but they were in a new place. They were a new them and they were crossing boundaries that they had hated to test before.

" _ **Fitz!**_ " she squealed, flailing a bit as she began to giggle. "Don't be such a caveman!"

He chuckled, the low sound reverberating in the arena, blending with her melodious laughter. With her in his grasp, he walked to the edge of the court and beyond, into the wing where they would be at least partially hidden by the rising seats. He placed her down onto her feet and let his hands smooth over her hips as he looked into her eyes. Leaning in, he kissed her, slowly but thoroughly. Her hands moved up his chest and around his neck to move into his hair. Olivia sucked gently at his lower lip and he groaned, ending this kiss before it got out of hand...which was exactly where it was headed.

"You're lucky you're cute," he told her. "Is there anything you can't do?"

 _ **/**_

 **T** hey were standing in the vestibule outside of her apartment, waiting for the Agents to clear it thoroughly. Fitz insisted on it on the way back, pointing out that it would be the perfect time for someone to break in. After all, everyone knew that she wasn't home and they knew exactly where she was. Not everyone was 'Team Olitz' and with 'less than reputable' people after Rowan, it was better to be safe than sorry. People who dwelt in the Dark weren't stupid. It would be pretty easy for them to put the pieces together about Rowan and Eli Pope being the same man. Everyone knew that she was Eli's daughter. Getting Command's Daughter would be quite the boon to whoever managed it.

Olivia knew all too well that her apartment could be vulnerable. Amanda Tanner had been Taken from it, multiple people had broken into it, those who Took her had just swarmed in like it was nothing...

"I had a good time tonight."

Adorable was not a word that was usually associated with Fitzgerald Grant III. Leader, father, veteran adulterer, yes but not adorable. However, seeing him look between her face and his shoes like a nervous teenage boy escorting his date home...Olivia's heart swelled with tenderness. That tenderness was reflected in her smile and overflowing into the kiss she pressed to his lips. Fitz embraced her immediately and she giggled a little as his left hand slid from her hip to her behind. Her man made no secret of his admiration of her ass and she didn't mind it. His hands on her, his appreciative gazes...she never minded them. Sometimes, the timing would be atrocious but still, Olivia would happily spend the rest of her life being touched by Fitz.

Her apartment door opened and the Agents filed out, taking sentry positions near the elevator.

"Are you staying?"

"...I don't put out on the first date, Ms. Pope."

"...since when?"

He chuckled and kissed her on the brow, kissed the slight pout on her lips away until both of them were smiling.

"Since we've decided to do us right, Livvie. We've been ass backward and untraditional for a long time and... I don't regret us, I could _**never**_ regret us, I swear but...I want to keep doing right by you, Olivia. I can finally treat you with the respect and love that you deserve so I want to..."

"I understand."

She did. It was slightly disappointing that she wouldn't be able to make love to him after such a wonderful date, wake up to him but it would be okay. There would be more dates and more sleepovers. There would be plenty of time for lovemaking and just him coming over to sleep or vice versa. Olivia had grown accustomed to seeing his face first thing in the morning, smelling their blended scents in the bedding. She didn't plan on having that permanently stop anytime soon but she supposed that a night apart would be okay.

And really, he had an excellent point and it made her heart sing.

After all the secrecy, the dirty little secrets, and the deplorable way that she had allowed Jake and Russell to treat her, treat her like she was a whore? Hearing Fitz say that he wanted to do right by her and mean it was refreshing. It was like coming up for fresh air.

Why had she ever run away from him?

Why had she allowed her insecurities and other people's manipulations, cruelty to keep her away from him?

This beautiful man... _ **her**_ beautiful man...

"One more kiss before you go?"

It was slow, passionate, lingering, and just so good. Fitz was so good for her and slowly but surely, Olivia was becoming just as good for him. It was long overdue.

"I'll call you tomorrow and I want to see you again, soon. What are you doing this weekend?"

"I'm not sure but I'll find the time for us to be together, even if it's just Gettysburger and a quick walk in the park."

"Okay...I don't want to leave."

"I don't want you to but you said it: you don't put out on the first date. You're not a liar, are you, Mister?"

"Well, I _**am**_ a politician..."

" _ **Fitzgerald**_..."

"I'm going. Good night, Olivia."

"Good night...I love you."

"I love you, too."

Once the elevators slid shut behind him and the Agents, Olivia entered her apartment and turned her locks. With practiced ease, she checked each of her windows to make sure they were secure and drew the curtains in the living room shut. The Press buzz had begun to die down but it would pick up again by the morning. She and Fitz had gone on their First Date, a resounding successful date and Mellie would be breaking her Silence at high noon. The Press would want answers to the ongoing big question **'What is Next for #Olitz?'** and they would be panting after her reaction to whatever Mellie was going to say or do.

Knowing Mellie, it was going to be big, melodramatic, and petty but that could be worried about later.

Right now, Olivia was happy.

She would be going to bed happy.

* * *

"Hello, Mellie."

 _"'Hello, Mellie'? Is that...is that really all you have to say for yourself?!"_

" _ **Goodbye**_ , Mellie. Give Cyrus my best, since I know you put this call on speaker so you can yell at me in style."

 _"_ _ **No!**_ _No, don't you fuckin'_ _ **dare**_ _hang up on me, you son of a bitch!_ _ **Don't. You. Dare!**_ _How could you?! How could you do this to me after everything we've been through together, everything I've sacrificed for you..."_

"Including 17 innocent lives?"

 _"I-I didn't know that it would happen that way! I didn't know what was going on! I was backed into a corner, your precious_ _ **Olivia**_ _'s dear old Daddy had me backed into a corner! I didn't know what else to do! H-He had pictures, Fitzgerald! He had pictures of me and..."_

"...your boyfriend. How is he doing, by the way? Last I heard he had been transferred to a long term care facility up near Albany..."

 _"I haven't seen or talked with Andrew since it all went down..."_

"No surprise there. It's not like you can gain anything from him right now other than slurred speech, dribbled applesauce, and used Depends. What do you want, Mellie? Why are you calling me? Unless you're telling me that you've signed the Papers, we have nothing to discuss."

 _ **"I want some fuckin' respect from you, Fitzgerald!**_ _For once in your goddamned life, why can't you just see how good I am, how much I gave to you before Olivia goddamned fucking Pope waltzed into our lives and ruined everything! She ruined_ _ **everything!**_ _We were fine until_ _ **she**_ _came along and you_ _ **had**_ _to get the Jungle Fever..."_

"Need I remind you that our marriage had died long before Cyrus introduced Olivia to me and that at one time, you were _**ve** ** _r_ y **_pro-Olitz? You practically booked the hotel rooms yourself and are the words 'You fell down on the job' ringing any fucking bells, Melody? If I had known what you said to her, how small you made her feel, I would've thrown your sorry racist ass out of my house and my life long before this."

 _"_ _ **Racist?**_ _A-Are you implying that I'm..."_

"I'm not _**implying**_ anything. I guess the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, huh?"

 _"Oh, that's just_ _ **so**_ _rich and creamy coming from **you!** Continuing the Grant man tradition of chasing a piece of ass...at least your damned Daddy had the common sense not to choose snatch that's political suicide. You pulled the trigger and shot yourself in the head all over again, Fitzgerald. Do you __**really**_ _think that you're just gonna be able to stay in that big beautiful Ol' White House with your Black mistress and get away with it scot free? Do you_ _ **really**_ _think that all your pretty little moving Interviews and cutesy basketball dates are gonna save your fat from the fire? Do you_ _ **really**_ _think that you won't get Impeached and thrown out like the dirty dishwater just like you did to me? Do you_ _ **really**_ _think that?"_

"Probably not but that doesn't matter to me. I've been done with the Oval since a certain, dearly departed conspirator of yours decided to try and recreate Lee Harvey Oswald's Grassy Knoll. Those 3 bullets and 10 day Coma were a hell of a birthday present, weren't they? I would've preferred cash or maybe a lava lamp. I've always loved lava lamps..."

 _"Your precious_ _ **Olivia**_ _was involved with that mess too or did you just conveniently fuckin' forget that, too?!"_

"I haven't but unlike the rest of you, she felt genuine remorse for what happened and has done her best to make things right tenfold. I forgave her for it a long time ago."

 _"...precious, precious_ _ **Olivia**_ _...she could get away with fuckin'_ _ **anything**_ _...meanwhile, I make_ _ **one**_ _mistake, one_ _ **teeny-tiny**_ _mistake and you throw me out and you throw Cyrus out for doing his fuckin' job like he always has and you send signed divorce papers to the Lawyers, making me look like a fuckin' joke! I'm a fuckin' joke thanks to you. I'm supposed to be seen as Senator Grant, a rising star on the road to the Oval..."_

"Senator _**Vaughn**_. Even if you don't use common sense and sign the Papers soon, I am going to make sure that you can't benefit from my last name, anymore."

 _"...and yet here I am,_ _ **once again**_ _with egg on my face because you can't just...what's so damned special about her? Why would you throw everything away from her? Why would you humiliate me like this? Is the sex_ _ **that**_ _good? No sex can be that good, can it?_ _ **Why**_ _, Fitzgerald? After...after everything I suffered...after what happened with your damned Daddy, after what happened to Gerry...did you even consider what this whole bullshit is doin' to our children?"_

"Don't pretend like you actually care for them outside of political capital, Melody. And quite frankly, I think that Karen and Teddy will be much better off in the long run with divorced parents instead of the farce of a political marriage that they became pawns in. **You don't care about them, Melody. You don't care about me. You don't care about anyone but yourself. Own it.** "

 _"...y-you just don't get it...you'll_ _ **never**_ _get it...you'll al-always see me as the Blueblood chattel that was sold to you and the Iron Maiden Bitch who has no heart, no soul...they'll ruin you, Fitzgerald. Your Legacy, your whole life's gonna go down the shitter and you're too fuckin' stupid and horny to realize it. You and your precious, precious_ _ **Olivia**_ _will be blown out of the sky **and if you think I'll be waitin' for you after she cuts and runs out on you yet again, you've got another thing comin'!** "_

"Even if she leaves me again, I will _**never**_ come back to you, Melody. **We are done.** I would rather die alone and miserable than continue to be miserably married to you. And yeah, there's a distinct possibility of me being destroyed socially, politically, even physically but it won't be nearly as bad as what's gonna happen to you if you don't use your common sense and end this before it's too late. Mutually Assured Destruction, Melody and I will _**gladly**_ burn to ashes if it means that you go down, too. I will throw myself onto the pyre with a smile. Now, if you're quite finished, I've had a long day and I've got another long day tomorrow. If you want to contact me again, go through the Lawyers or through my Crisis Manager. She's the best in the World. Good night, Melody. Be sure to drink a glass of water before you pass out. It'll help with the hangover and good luck with your Press Conference tomorrow. It should be very interesting."

* * *

Although Olivia knew that the situation was serious, as soon as she turned on the television, she couldn't help but chuckle. It was petty and childish and honestly so mean but the way Mellie looked, the way Cyrus looked? It just tickled her to the core. They were already buckling underneath the pressure, the scrutiny and shame. Typical bullies. When they had the upper hand, they were stone cold and savage but once the tables turned, they crumbled. They cried and wanted everyone to know that they were the victim. They hadn't even made it a month. Olivia had dealt with it for years, nearly half of a decade of it but they...oh, it was _**hilarious**_.

Not only was it hilarious, it was karma at its finest.

Mellie was dressed in a black suit, perfectly tailored. Her hair was in a tight, severe bun, and she was hiding her eyes behind a pair of large sunglasses, most likely from Prada. She had put on an American flag pin and a pin representing the State of Virginia. Despite the bright and sunny day, she looked like she was sitting on a bed of nails and with each camera flash, she winced. A more sympathetic viewer would see it as Mellie reacting viscerally to the pain of losing her husband to another woman but Olivia knew the truth.

 **Mellie had the hangover to end all hangovers.** According to Fitz, Mellie's drink of choice wasn't a Cabernet or even a nice beer imported straight from Germany. What she drank was pure Americana. What she drank was a drink that had a long and vaunted history, particularly in the Appalachian Mountains. Her drink of choice hailed from the Appalachian Distillery and it was 100%, 128 proof Apple Pie Moonshine, as in actual Moonshine. Olivia hadn't even known that people still knew what Moonshine was, much less that it had multiple brands. When she heard of moonshine, she thought of the old gangster movies she used to watch when she couldn't sleep during undergrad. She thought of documentaries on the bootlegging industry. Mellie's moonshine either came from the distillery or from her own personal hiding places. There was a moonshine recipe that had been passed down through the men of the not so DAR, blueblood side of Mellie's family and apparently, she wasn't afraid to imbibe. By the looks of things, the moonshine had become a large part of Mellie's diet.

Olivia couldn't muster up any pity for her or the man standing next to her. They had done it to themselves. Their sadness, their pain, their embarrassment...it had been earned. Mellie was a hungover mess and Cyrus looked like he had gone through a meat grinder. He looked like he had aged 20 years in such a short period of time. His suit was dark gray and crisp, tailored perfectly and he had on a Republican red tie. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, though. His cheeks were both sallow and near sunburnt pink and there was a tic in his jaw. Cyrus was a ticking time bomb. He was a wounded, rabid animal and near ready to snap someone's arm clean off.

 **Both of them deserved each other.** Mellie and Cyrus deserved each other. They had spent so much time resting on their laurels, so smugly secure in holding all the cards, all the puppet strings. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. Mellie...Cyrus...Rowan...they thought that they had the world firmly in their hands, all of their ducks in a row and they had been blindsided. Fitz had thrown Mellie out of 1600 Penn and sent signed divorce papers to the lawyers. Olivia's Interview had exposed her for the phony she was. Mellie was not a put upon wife. She was not Jackie Kennedy, stoically enduring her husband's infidelities for the sake of family and country. Everyone knew that Mellie had been complicit in keeping #Olitz alive. She was still facing severe backlash for it. 'You fell down on the job', alone...and Cyrus was taking heat, too.

Instead of a faithful, loyal Chief of Staff, he was seen as an opportunistic leech, aiding and abetting **'Mellie the Pimp'** (someone had aptly dubbed her that on Tumblr and social Media ran with it) for the sake of his own power. Michael had taken Ella and moved out of the house. He was petitioning for full custody, citing Cyrus' complete lack of involvement in Ella's day to day life as a reason. After James Novak's murder, Ella had been in the full time care of nannies before Michael came into the picture. Of course, what Cyrus really cared about was the condemnation against him as a Chief of Staff. Some of his back alley, dirty dealings were slowly being leaked to the Press and the Talking Heads were having a field day.

At the stroke of noon, Mellie stood up and took the podium, removing her sunglasses and waiting for silence. There was an odd expression on her face, strained and Olivia realized that she was trying to look as if she were on the verge of tears. Mellie was trying to look like a devastated woman who had been so callously abandoned but honestly? She looked like was constipated. The chagrined look on Cyrus' face had been caught by a cameraman with excellent timing and Olivia shook her head, still trying not to laugh uproariously.

The wait for Mellie to start talking began to stretch into awkward territory and Olivia furrowed her brow a bit. What was she playing at? Mellie was the one who had called the Press Conference. She had something to say, didn't she? Everyone knew that Mellie had something to say, especially with just how public her soon to be ex-husband had been. Maybe that was why she was hesitating. Fitz had gotten up on a podium, in front of the White House Press Corp at high noon and he had been honest. Olivia had gone on BNC during Primetime and she had been honest to Noah Baker, to the massive audience watching. Yes, there had been Spin added to her and Fitz's statements but the Spin had been more geared on their physical appearance, not on their words. Her words, Fitz's words had come from the heart, not a calculating brain or a bruised ego.

 **Mellie didn't have a heart to speak from.** That was the long and short of it.

" _Good...good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for coming out. I...well, I know why you're here. Everyone wants to know how I'm holding up in the wake of my husband and Olivia Pope exposing their affair and...I have to say that I'm shocked. I'm shocked and deeply hurt by what they've said and done. I...I understand that there may very well be love between them. I understand that they want to be together but as public servants, as public figures, they have been irresponsible, reckless...the people of this country put trust in my husband, I put trust in my husband and he...I intend to remain your Junior Senator, your Representative for the great state of Virginia. I intend to fight for the people of this country, to be a key part of the Checks and Balances that keep our government strong. I also intend to fight for my marriage. I will not stand aside and let my husband throw away over 20 years of time, effort, and history for the sake of lust. Our children deserve to have a family, a whole and traditional family, and I will not be cast aside. I will not..._ _ **I will fight**_ _."_

And lose. She had already lost. Mellie said nothing about loving Fitz. She said nothing about wanting him for him. Mellie had intended to sound like a wife that's willing to accept a husband's mistakes, who was willing to forgive but honestly, she sounded like a child who would not give up a toy. She sounded like she cared more about her wasted time than heartbroken. Bringing up the children had been a good move but how Mellie had done it had been wrong. If she had mentioned trying to reach out to Karen (which she hadn't... Fitz had been reaching out to her but had yet to get an answer), if she had mentioned missing Teddy (Fitz had been able to FaceTime with Teddy and his nanny, much to the toddler's joy), then _**maybe**_...it was a disaster. Mellie sounded like an embittered, hungover woman who was reading from cue cards. There was no true sadness in her words, in her body language, even to the untrained eye.

Mellie's Press Conference was a disaster already and the floor hadn't even been open to questions yet.

 _ **/**_

 _ **"Have you spoken to President Grant or Olivia Pope recently?"**_

 _"Briefly. Most of the communication have been handled by our attorneys."_

 _ **"Is there a Prenuptial agreement in place? How will your assets be divided? Custody of the children?"**_

 _"There is a Prenup in place but due to scheduling conflicts, Fitz and I haven't been able to meet and discuss the logistics of the situation. There may not be a need to do so. I... Fitz and I have had our differences. We have both made mistakes but every relationship goes through rough patches and... we will work through this dark time in our marriage and become stronger for it."_

 _ **"President Grant stood in front of an audience of millions and declared his love for Olivia Pope. Ms. Pope's BNC Interview made it clear that love is returned and they both have taken steps to be together publicly. The divorce papers he filed have his signature on them. That's been verified by experts and from a source at the firm itself."**_

 _"I'm aware of that but..."_

 _ **"Was Olivia Pope lying during her BNC Interview when she said that not only did you know about the affair between her and President Grant but you also actively encouraged it at one point?"**_

 _"I...I_ _ **did**_ _know about the affair, yes and there are times that my actions and words may have indicated that I condoned it but I can assure you that I never thought the affair would last as long as it did. I never thought that two of the people that I trusted most, that I saw as friends would behave so deplorably."_

 _ **"Is their behavior any less deplorable than your claim that Ms. Pope and I quote 'fell down on the job' when it came to the indiscretion President Grant had with Amanda Tanner? On that same vein, could it not be said that you yourself fell down on the job as a wife that Ms. Tanner, Ms. Pope, and Ms. Locke could even be connected intimately to President Grant in the first place?"**_

Before Mellie could even begin to formulate a response, Cyrus stepped forward and quickly declared the Conference to be over but the damage was done. As they left the stage, the assembled reporters erupted into a flurry of shouted questions and camera flashes. Cameramen and reporters followed them, barely held in check by MPD officers. The last image of the Conference, an image that Olivia knew would be played on loop for days on end, was of Mellie barely getting the door of the town car shut before it peeled out, followed by SUVs.

Olivia's landline rang and she picked it up immediately, shutting off her television.

"This is Olivia Pope...hello?"

A beat and then, all too familiar laughter sounded through the line.

" **Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III, you stop laughing right now!** "

" _I-I... can't_..."

" **Try**."

" _I_ _ **did**_ _and I... hey, you're laughing, too!_ "

"No, I'm not..."

That was a lie. There was laughter in her voice but Fitz was nearly in hysterics.

 _"Who was that reporter? I want to know who they are, where they are, and if they would like a job..."_

"Fitz, you can't do that."

 _"Why not?"_

"It's not...it wouldn't be nice. You have to be gracious. You have to be the level headed one in the situation. You have to be the mature one. Mellie just crashed and burned, which is good..."

 _"...and hilarious. Don't deny it."_

"... _ **but**_ if you hire that reporter, if you say anything in the next 24 hours about what just happened, even jokingly you'll look like you're gloating or you'll look patronizing, neither of which would be good for your Optics or ours. You know that."

 _ **/**_

 **F** itz couldn't stop chuckling, his face slightly flushed from the hilarity of it all. After all of the pain and frustration that Mellie had created for him and Olivia, tor see it all come crashing down on her was beautiful irony. Karma was a sweet, vengeful bitch.

"I'll behave, I promise." He smiled, filled with warmth as he reminded himself that they were really doing this. They were openly in love and it felt beyond amazing. "If you tell me what you're wearing..." He smirked.

 _/_

" **I** 'm not going to tell you what I'm wearing, Fitzgerald."

 _"How come?"_

"1. You're probably calling me from the Oval and I don't want the NSA to hear us having phone sex..."

 _"So, if I had used my personal phone, then..."_

"...and 2. I'm in pajamas. You know the pink and white striped ones that you said made me look like Neapolitan ice cream?"

 _"From Louisville?"_

"Yes."

 _"I meant that in a good way."_

"I know you did but they're not exactly sexy."

 _"Liv, you could be covered in mud and in a burlap sack and still be sexy."_

"So biased..."

 _"No, I'm not. You're sexy, no matter what...are you okay, Livvie? I know Mellie crashed and burned in the end but what she said before that..."_

"...didn't hurt. She can't hurt me, anymore. Neither can Cyrus. They don't have the power to do that anymore. It was actually pretty sad to watch her up there. You and I told the truth. We spoke our truths and she doesn't know how to respond to that or she does but she doesn't want to because that means she would have to admit that she was wrong and that she should just let you go. It's not easy to let you go. It hurts."

 _"It hurt_ _ **you**_ _because you actually love me and you thought that you were doing what was best to keep me safe, even if it meant we couldn't be together. It hurts_ _ **her**_ _because she's going to lose her political meal ticket and capital. I've filed a motion with the lawyers to get her to stop using my last name, personally and professionally. She's said for years that she's wanted to be free of me and that I was just holding her back so I want my last name back. It doesn't belong to her anymore. It's yours. You're going to be Olivia Grant."_

" _ **Pope**_ -Grant. I want to hyphenate."

 _"As long as there's Grant in your name, I don't care."_

* * *

 **One Week Later- A Night at the Opera**

 **F** itz stood in front of the mirror in the en suite bathroom of the Residence, carefully watching his hands in the reflection as he tied his silk black tie. After being otherwise occupied with damage control and their regular job duties for the past week, he and Olivia were finally taking an evening to themselves. He had been busy not only dealing with his usual Presidential expectations, but managing the added media attention caused by Mellie's attempt at a speech and he and Olivia in general.

There were visits and long phone calls with his attorney regarding the divorce to include custody of Teddy and real estate. Poor Abby had to duck and dodge questions each morning at the podium in all of those subjects, and Fitz felt a little sorry for her. She was definitely good at the job, though. She had been taught by the best.

While his eyes were red-rimmed from lack of sleep (mostly due to not being able to sleep next to Olivia), and he was running on the fumes of his last cup of coffee, Fitz was more than glad to be gearing up to see his love. She had planned their last public outing, so he had taken the initiative to plan this one. They were headed to the Kennedy Center for an evening at the symphony. Years ago, she had mentioned that she would enjoy going, but that she hadn't made the time to do so. He had made the time for her. They would spend the evening together being serenaded by the works of Beethoven and Tchaikovsky, relaxing and enjoying each other's company. It helped that it would give them the excuse to dress up. He absolutely adored seeing her in an evening gown, glowing and absolutely stunning. And for her to be such a vision and be on his arm for all to see? That only sweetened the deal.

Despite all of the busy days and sleepless nights that had passed him recently, he was happy in his heart, in a way that he hadn't been before. The country could go to war and the world could come crumbling down, but part of him, deep down inside, would still be sated because all was right (on well on the way to it) in their relationship. There was a certain peace in that, and he treasured the feeling. Hopefully, he would never know what it was like to live without that feeling again.

Being that they were still trying to attract only positive attraction from the media, regardless of the involvement of infidelity, Fitz would be picking her up for their date via motorcade for a more traditional appearance. He was a total romantic at heart, and he loved that they were finally able to do things appropriately after years of cutting corners. All he had ever wanted was to be able to give her the love that she deserved, and they were well on the way to that life.

He slipped on his tuxedo jacket and was escorted by his team of agents to the waiting motorcade in the underground parking garage. In his hand, he held a corsage of red roses for her, smiling as he looked down at it. He was so excited to see her. It had been days, and phone calls were not nearly enough to satisfy him. The need to see her face-to-face, to kiss her perfect lips, was overwhelming. So overwhelming that he was tempted to skip the date altogether and spend the entire evening making love to her in her apartment. But he wouldn't. He owed her the date. They owed it to themselves.

They were there in minutes, which was a plus side to traveling in an official, police-escorted motorcade. A few paparazzi snapped his photo as he entered the front of her building and he humored them by waving and offering a smile. Even the press couldn't ruin the night that he had planned for them. He wouldn't let the world decide their fate. Not tonight, and not ever again.

Softly, he rapped his knuckles against her door and waited patiently for her to answer, a tiny grin on his mouth.

 _ **/**_

" **H** i."

"...hi...you look...god, Livvie, you're gorgeous..."

Olivia blushed and looked away from him, a smile brightening her face. She had chosen a sleeveless, bateau neckline evening gown with her usual snow white as the base color but the floral lace accents were black and silver, the silver matching the peep toes heels she wore. Since they were going to the symphony, Olivia had done her hair into a sleek side chignon, parted on the right and put a white diamond barrette in to match the studs in her ears.

"Thank you, baby. I just need to grab my gloves and I'll be ready. Do you want to come in?"

"If I come in now, we're not going anywhere but to bed. I'll wait here."

Giggling to herself at his honesty, Olivia quickly returned to her bedroom and pulled on the elbow length black opera gloves. Two last spritzes of Chanel No. 5, a quick check for lipstick on her teeth, and she was ready. After the success of their first date 2 weeks before and Mellie's subsequent PR disaster of a news conference, Olivia had gone into this date much more relaxed. Their Optics were still important. Something could still go wrong but the anxiety was outweighed by excitement. She could do this with Fitz. She could go on actual, formal and informal dates with him. She could call him during the day and do things like send him texts reminding him to eat and to straighten his back. Sometimes, his posture would take a hit from being behind the Resolute for long periods or sitting in on various briefings. He would send her reminders to eat an actual meal (" _ **No**_ , Livvie, wine and popcorn doesn't count...neither does chocolate milk and popcorn...") and just sweet texts, saying that he was thinking of her, that he missed her. And of course, he would get inappropriate, especially if they were late calls and Olivia had started to give as good as she got.

If she had to be a big mess of hormones with no immediate relief, then so did he, damn it. It was only fair!

The Media had accepted their relationship. Paparazzi still followed them both and the Talking Heads still held segments on them but much of the fuss had died down. No longer were they an Affair, the President and his Side Chick. They were the President and the Fixer.  
They were #Olitz, the It Couple of D.C. and a grand American Love Story, just as they all (sans Jake) had hoped it would become that day in OPA.

There hadn't been anymore Interviews but Fitz was making no secret about him being serious about divorcing Mellie. He met with his lawyers daily and would ask her for help, trying to figure out what would be fair to the kids and Mellie, in the long run. As much as he wanted to be free of Mellie, Fitz didn't want to leave her destitute or take the kids away from her. At the same time, he would not be bullied into giving her more than she deserved nor would he allow Karen or Teddy to be used as pawns. The biggest move he had made in the war against Mellie was legally forcing her to stop using his last name in her political endeavors. She was no longer Virginia Junior Senator Mellie Grant. She was Senator Vaughn and soon, she would be Ms. Vaughn again, whether she or anyone else liked it or not. The Grant last name wasn't Mellie's to have, anymore. It shouldn't have been hers in the first place.

Olivia had already perfected her new signature: Olivia Carolyn Pope-Grant. Of course, she had yet to use it on any official paperwork or even a takeout receipt but sometimes, she would jot it down, just like a smitten schoolgirl imagining her future husband.

The best part was the Pope-Grant was no pie in the sky fantasy. It was a promise. It was tangible hope and if anyone wanted to take it away from her, from both her and Fitz, they would end up for a very rude and painful awakening.

 _ **/**_

"I wonder what would happen if I flipped one of them off right now..."

"You should wonder what it would be like to never have sex with me again."

"You don't mean that, Livvie..."

"...no, I don't but still, you keep your fingers where they're supposed to be, Mister."

"I can _**certainly**_ do that, Mrs. Pope-Grant..."

Although his tone was teasing, his facial expression was anything but and Olivia knew that at least one photo of them at that moment would surface. Fitz was looking at her like he wanted to devour her and that she was his whole universe. She could feel heat fill her cheeks and her pupils had to be dilated. Part of that was because of the camera flashes and the sparkling golden light that filtered through all the chandeliers. Most of it was because of Fitz. She was teetering on the edge. Fitz had kept her close to him, kept caressing her, kissing her temple, kept doing all the things that he could only do when they were alone. Well, not all of the things. Not yet, anyway. Olivia had a strong feeling that Fitz wouldn't want to wait until the end of their night to truly touch her. Honestly, she didn't want him to wait but they had to get to someplace private, away from stray phone cameras and prying eyes.

"I'm not Mrs. Pope-Grant yet."

"... **yes, you are**."

 _ **/**_

"Livvie?"

".. _.I feel like a Princess. I-I didn't think I'd ever be able to feel like that and...is this really happening?_ "

" **It is. We are.** "

The house lights flickered above their heads and Olivia stepped away from their balcony's railing, stepping through the artfully arranged privacy curtains and back to her plush seat next to her smiling man. Seeing Fitz so happy and knowing that she was a big part of it made her feel euphoric. A part of her was afraid that it was all a dream, that she was still locked in that Cell but Olivia knew that she wasn't. She was free and awake. She was out on a date with Fitz again. She was by his side, respected and cherished by him openly and it was amazing.

Again, she felt regret that she hadn't been brave sooner, that they hadn't been able to be like this sooner but that didn't matter. The past and its mistakes didn't matter, not really. It was all about the future, all about the present and presently, Olivia was happy. Not only was she happy with Fitz, she was happy with herself. She felt stable, anchored, decisive, and at peace. Yes, there was still trouble on the horizon. Yes, there were still dragons to slay and situations to Fix, to Handle but Olivia knew in her Gut that she...they would be able to get through to the other side. All they had to do was hold onto each other, keep communicating each other and they would be okay.

 **Go big and Stay Home**...

 _ **/**_

Olivia gasped and buried her hands in his hair to steady herself as he pressed lingering, open mouthed kisses to her trembling abdomen.

She and Fitz had been able to sit through half of the 90 minute show without incident. He had rested a gentle hand on her thigh but made no other moves, not even looking at her. Olivia had rested her hand on top of his with a slight frown. She knew Fitz. She knew him well and she also knew how he was when she was in formal wear. Barring unforeseen complications (like Cyrus manipulating her into going home before ambushing him in the Rose Garden or Mellie pulling a bait & switch to beg for re-election help...), when she was in formal wear, Fitz would at minimum kiss her and at most, pin her gently but firmly to the nearest solid surface.

It was one thing for him to keep his hands and fingers to himself in front of the cameras but they were away from them now and...

He had been waiting for her to make the first move.

As soon as the lights went down again, Olivia had turned, grabbed him by the face and kissed him fiercely. Initially, he startled but the smile against her lips as he finally pulled her close to him told her that he very much approved. She was trying. Fitz was usually the one to reach out, to start things between them and while she liked it, she knew that it was important for her to do the same. It wasn't just in terms of their sex life, either. She had to reach out sometimes, let him know that he was wanted by her, needed by her. Olivia wasn't used to needing anyone. Years of being all alone, left behind and forgotten until convenient had conditioned her to shut people out. She didn't want to do that anymore. Part of being happy, of having joy was letting people in, especially those who truly loved her most...

Using her grip on his curls, Olivia urged him upwards and once he was sitting up on his knees with her, she started to undo his belt, holding his gaze. Her gown was off and draped safely over their seats, leaving her in the lacy strapless bra and bikini panties she had picked for tonight. Both pieces were a soft shade of pink, nearly lavender and the look on Fitz's face when he saw it nearly sent her into orbit. She knew that he would like them. He liked anything that she wore but of course, his favorite thing to see her in was just her skin. If it were up to him, she would never have clothes on.

"... _so beautiful, Livvie_..."

He was beautiful, too. Inside and out. As he carefully removed her damp panties, she lay flat on her back and spread her knees. The floor underneath her vibrated slightly in time with the music below and her toes curled into the plush carpeting. Fitz freed his pulsing cock and both of them guided it into her waiting channel, shuddering with pleasure. God, he felt so good! He always felt so good inside of her, stretching and filling her just right. Fitz buried his face in her neck and she wrapped her legs around his striving hips, meeting him halfway.

"... _you feel_ _ **so**_ _good...don't stop...please don't_..."

Olivia gasped as he pulled her flush against his chest, sitting them up again. She trembled in his arms, holding onto his shoulders to anchor herself and kept moving with him. The orchestra was louder now, building to the finale of their performance and for that she was glad because she couldn't hold in her pleasure. Each impact of their hips made her moan and Fitz was groaning into her flesh, a tight double handful of her behind bringing her to him roughly. She could feel her thighs become sticky, feel herself dripping all over him and she cried out as the coil in her lower belly snapped abruptly. Her cries increased in pitch as his thick, warm fingers stole to her humid heat, stroking her through her climax and into another and another...

 _ **/**_

Thunderous applause sounded and the house lights came back on, signaling the end of the performance. Olivia was still shivering with aftershocks and she opened her eyes slowly. Her body felt warm and her vision spun in all the best ways. Fitz never disappointed her.

Said Fitz was on his forearms, his brow resting on hers and she kissed his trembling lips gently, tugging lightly at the bottom one. They must look quite a sight and she was thankful that the Secret Service Agents had set up a large perimeter. The last thing they needed was for someone to walk in on them. Of course, there was always a chance that there was a hidden camera in their vicinity but that was just par the course for them, now. Unlike the last times, there was nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of. There wouldn't need to be an emergency 'America's Baby' or 'best selling sizzler' to make things all right. They had taken control of their Narrative. They were truly in it together. They held the cards and the strings. The world knew that she and Fitz were together so they could do as they pleased. Being together meant that they had sex...made love...and not always in private.

" _Are you okay?_ "

" _Mm-hm... didn't you hear the applause?_ "

Fitz snorted and replied, "I think that was more for the orchestra than me, Livvie."

"Not to me.", she quipped and they both grinned, moaning softly as they separated.

 _ **/**_

 **T** here was a smirk plastered on his face as Fitz stood up in the private, secluded box, the applause continuing to call for the orchestra to perform an encore. He casually pulled his white shirt back on, watching with the ever-present appreciation as she pulled her dress back over her perfect body. This was their life now, together. Spending free evenings out, as he had always wished they could. Feeling their desire build and fester until they couldn't contain it any longer. And the joy that gave him, the peace, made him want her again. He would never tire of freely making love to her. Fitz would desire Olivia until he took his last breath.

Once he was looking proper again with all of his clothes in place, he stepped over to her again where she stood peering into her compact mirror to assess any damage caused by their quick romp. His arms wound around her torso and she grinned immediately, leaning back against him.

"You never could resist me in a tux..." he teased, his voice vibrating deep against her.

She giggled, throwing her head back. And he started laughing too, the sounds of their joy getting lost in the applause until it started to die down. Olivia covered her mouth as her petite frame continued to shake with laughter. Fitz playfully nibbled the shell of her ear, grinning.

"Let's get out of here. You made me work up an appetite."

 _ **/**_

"I've always wanted to do this...every year, I'd come back from school and it would be just in time for prom and I'd see the other girls with their boyfriends here. Sometimes, they'd be fighting but most times...it was like this. I'm glad I get to do this with you, Fitz."

"I want to do everything with you, Livvie."

" _ **Everything?**_ ", she drawled with waggling brows, causing him to chuckle and give her a _**look**_.

"Everything and more, Ms. Pope. Finish your shake."

"...yes, Mr. President."

Holding his gaze, she slowly let her straw slip back into her mouth and let out a soft moan. The moan wasn't just to tease him. Gettysburger had added an orange creamsicle milkshake to their menu and she had to have it. The shake was thick, creamy, and delicious...

"You're trying to kill me."

Olivia set aside her empty cup and daintily wiped her mouth, adding it to the trays in front of them. Fitz hadn't been kidding when he said that he had worked up an appetite and she was in the same boat. They had each ordered bacon double cheeseburgers with the works and shared an order of Freedom Fries covered with gravy. The Secret Service was keeping the media at bay outside but she knew that every Media outlet would have something to say. A night at the opera ending at a greasy spoon? What kind of date was that?

A perfect one.

A correct one.

Edison wouldn't be caught dead in Gettysburger or any place less than 4 stars on a date, even if they were just strolling through the park. Jake would have fit in. He had even suggested going out to eat instead of getting things delivered. They had done a couple of outings while adding to the Jeannine coverup and of course, there was the Island but Olivia...it just hadn't felt right. Sitting in an opera house, going to a basketball game, staying in... none of it had felt right with Jake. It had been a necessary evil and later, what she had been willing to settle for to have 'peace'. Jake, Edison, even Russell...none of them had been right for her. But, Fitz? Fitz was the One. She had known it for years and she had finally accepted it, stopped running. Olivia had found the man that she could be with. She had found the one that she _**should**_ be with...

"What are you thinking about?"

"You. Me. Us."

"Good things?"

" _ **Very**_ good things."

He rewarded her honesty with a soft but potent kiss.

 **F** itz kissed her slowly, deeply, and thoroughly, right there in the middle of their favorite little diner, not giving half a damn who saw or what they thought about it. In fact, part of him was glad the paparazzi was outside the restaurant, fighting to catch at least a quick glimpse of the two of them. Their love should be documented. It was the real thing. A true representation of how two people should love each other. The world should be allowed to see small moments of that, to have proof that their story was real. To maintain hope that a love like theirs existed and was possible. They had fought tooth and nail for their relationship, and they had finally achieved the dream. They were America's Sweethearts. **At last.**

After half a moment of his kisses, Olivia emerged from the spell and pulled back, smirking cutely.

"I mention prom and you're all over me like a teenager," she teased.

He scoffed, feigning offense.

"How dare you? I last much longer than a schoolboy in bed and you know it."

He winked and gave her a wolfish grin, causing her to roll her eyes.

"You're impossible," she quipped, holding his chin in her hand and giving him a few more short kisses.


End file.
